


While the World Falls Down

by oleanderedits



Series: Hold Fast to One Another [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: AU (Canon Divergence), Bisexuality, Closeted Character, F/M, Gen, Good Brother Merle, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Merle is really racist, Multi, Other, Past Abuse, Polyamory, Pre-Series, Racism, Racist Language, Racist Merle, Series Re-write, Sexuality Slurs, Slow Burn Romance, Sophia Lives, What if?, darlenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-04-21 07:29:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 48,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4820576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oleanderedits/pseuds/oleanderedits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were supposed to have ten days to dispute the quickie wedding they'd had the night they'd been drunk. The world went to shit three days later. Part 1 of a series re-write focusing on Glenn, Daryl, Merle, and Maggie as what it means to be 'Family' is stretched, twisted, and redefined by circumstances no one should have to live through. Covers Seasons 1 and 2 and mostly follows the canon storyline.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No Shotguns But Plenty of Weddings

**Author's Note:**

> This was _inspired_ by a couple of the old LJ kinkmeme prompts: (1) Daryl wakes up in bed married  & (2) During the night Merle's on the roof, Glenn saying "This news'll sound better coming from his husband." The fic assumes that Vegas-style wedding chapels are a lot more common across the United States and that Marriage Equality passed before the Zombie Apocalypse.

=Now=

"You can't be serious," Merle muttered, then repeated more forcefully. "You can _not_ be serious! For all we know the twink is dead. We should be hitting the hills and finding people to grab supplies off of before they get their faces eaten in."

Daryl chewed on the thumb of his left hand, right propped up on the steering wheel. The truck was stopped, engine off, while the two figured out where to go and what to do. He didn't respond to his brother.

The silence was enough of an answer for Merle who punched the dash in front of him and turned in his seat to lean in and glare at Daryl, "We are not going into that city to find some chink twink you fucked-"

"We didn't fuck!" Daryl snarled, pushing his brother out of his face. His voice quieting as he returned his gaze to the road in front of them. It was still clear for miles, not a soul - dead or otherwise - in sight. "Told you that already. And it don't matter neither! He's family now! You gonna tell me you'll just leave family without even trying to make sure if they're dead or not?"

 =Then=

Glenn woke with a splitting headache and thanked whatever luck he had that the curtains of the room he was in weren't open. He could see sunlight peeking in with long lines on the floor where the cloth didn't quite reach the carpet, but those weren't high enough or bright enough to cause him pain. A body moving along his other side brought his attention back to the bed and he had a moment of feeling pleased he'd managed to get himself laid before he turned his head and realized his bedmate was still fully clothed. Boots and all. A cursory examination of himself made it clear he was, too. 

"Great," he murmured and went to roll himself slowly out of bed. His feet were just hitting the floor when he was grabbed by the shoulder and pulled backwards. The garbled yelp that escaped him was cut off by a hand over his mouth and whatever further protest he would have made stopped by the feel of the knife at this throat. Blue eyes framed by a weaselly face twisted with anger, confusion, and obvious pain (probably just as hungover as Glenn was) blinked down at him while the owner caught his breath. Glenn, for his part, just stared up with wide eyes and heavy breaths, hoping he wasn't going to die and silently cursing the luck that had saved him from the sunlight only to subject him to this. 

Seconds passed into a minute and the only thing the young man could focus on was those eyes squinting down at him and the sound of his own heartbeat pounding painfully loud in his ear. Eventually the hand was lifted and the man questioned him with a soft hiss that he tried to hide he was wincing at (definitely hungover), "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now."

"I-" Glenn started to speak but his voice caught in his throat as his mind decided to blank out on him. Why shouldn't the guy kill him? They didn't know each other. If anything, the guy was probably trying to figure out how and why he was in bed with Glenn as much as Glenn was trying to remember the same.  

It was probably the awkward fish mouth Glenn made as his lips moved but nothing came out that convinced the stranger to pull his knife away and shove him by the shoulder back to the other side of the bed with a mumbled, "shit."

Glenn took the opportunity offered and scrambled away, off the bed and onto the floor where he instantly regretted it, both hands going to his head while he groaned loudly, "Shouldn't have done that."

"Shut up, tryin' ta think," came the grumbled reply, followed by the man standing and throwing his knife into the far wall, "Ah hell no! Bullshit! This is bullshit! This is fucking bullshit!"

"Please stop," Glenn whined, his body curling up more tightly in a futile attempt to cover his ears even more. "Too loud."

"I thought I told you to shut up!"

"Stop yelling and I will." His answer was belligerent and likely very stupid when he already knew the guy was fast with a knife. He didn't really care. The ringing in his ears was bad enough that he felt it was worth the risk. Something he regretted a few moments later when a bucket of ice water was dumped very unkindly over his head, his shriek once again cut off by that calloused hand over his mouth. 

 =Now= 

Merle rolled his eyes and slumped against the door, "You left dad."

"Dad was dead!" Daryl snapped, not in the mood to keep this up much longer. 

"Yeah, I know," Merle muttered in as contrite a fashion as he was capable of, stretching and reaching down to scratch his crotch. "You shouldn't have let Jess do it. You should have done it."

It was Daryl's turn to be contrite, "Yeah. I know. If the chinaman's one of 'em, I'll do it."

The older of the two took a long, hard look at his brother, biting his right thumbnail the same way Daryl would bite his left. 

 =Then= 

Glenn rubbed the towel across his shoulders again, trying to will himself dry while he watched the guy - Daryl - pace like a caged animal between the bed and the door. The pain and shock of the ice water hadn't stopped the hangover from being painful in it's own right, but he was more awake now. And if Daryl wasn't pacing, he probably would be instead. He understood the agitation now. If he'd found the certificate first he probably would have been cursing just as much as the other man had.

His husband.

And wasn't that a laugh? Glenn had gone to the casino as part of a bachelor party and woken up married. Not his own party, though, that would have been way too ironic. His roommate's. His roommate that had probably gotten just as drunk as Glenn last night but, equally probably, hadn't woken up married to some redneck asshole. 

"We didn't have sex," he offered after a good half hour of pacing and silence.

Daryl yanked the knife from the wall and whipped around to face him, "What'd you say?"

Glenn's shoulders hunched out of instinct more than the actual belief that making himself smaller would help him seem less threatening. Daryl clearly saw him as a threat. Probably to his masculinity or something. He gulped, then slowly repeated himself, "We uh... we didn't have sex. We were, you know, both fully dressed when... when we woke up." He licked his lips, not really holding his breath, hoping the other man would relax. When that didn't happen, Glenn tried - and failed - to make a joke, "And my ass isn't sore, either."

Which was the wrong thing to say because Daryl was in his face before Glenn could register what had happened, "I ain't no fag, chink."

"I didn't say you were!" he replied a little too quickly, his voice high pitched with panic. "I was trying to lighten the mood a little. I mean, if we'd had sex, you'd definitely be the one on top-"

"Damn right I would! I don't take it like a prison bitch!"

"Right! Right! My ass would be sore and it's not! Okay! We didn't do anything. We just... got drunk and got... married." 

=Now=

"Why's this so important? He ain't really family. So what if you couldn't get those papers filed in time? The whole world's gone to shit, baby brother," Merle tried to reason with him, his voice that semi-sympathetic tone that was as much genuine worry as it was him probing for a weakness. Something he could shove his verbal weapon in like a knife and twist around to get the response he wanted. "Make me understand."

Daryl shrugged, his face and voice passive, "I don't want no loose ends, is all."

Merle's eyes rolled again and he kicked the dash this time before leaning back and letting out a long, loud sigh to make sure Daryl knew just how generous he was being right then, "Fine. We'll go track his twink ass down. You got any idea where to start?

A folded piece of paper, wrinkled, but otherwise in good shape, was held out for Merle to take while Daryl started the truck up. The older Dixon opened it and started reading, his eyebrows raising in surprise, "They really just give you all that info just 'cause you're married?"

"Had to fill out paperwork," Daryl shrugged again, turning the truck onto one of the smaller streets that would lead them back toward what remained of Atlanta. "We both got copies. He knows were we live, too. Where we used to live."

 =Then=

Now that his hangover was starting to fade and Daryl had stopped being as easily volatile (he was still growly but it was more of a 'sleeping bear' growly than a 'bear about to eat you' growly), the two were reading over the paperwork and legalities of the whole instant wedding deal. They had ten days to file a dispute of the marriage before it was considered legal in the state of Georgia. That wasn't a lot of time, but anyone backing out of the kind of marriage they had were probably going to file as quickly as possible. Who would want to wait that long?

Glenn didn't. Daryl didn't. But the problem was that neither of them had the money for the filing charge. Glenn figured he probably blew what little remained from his last paycheck on the drinks and the cost of the elopement the night before. And probably the hotel room. Though it was expensive enough, that that had probably been Daryl's contribution. And from how he pawed at his empty pockets, Glenn figured he was in the same boat Glenn was: either waiting it out until one of them got a paycheck (Glenn's was two weeks away so that was out of the question for him) or borrowing from someone. Those were about the only way this was going to happen.

"I know this guy," Glenn offered slowly, not really wanting to have to go back to the whole payday loan thing.

"No you don't," Daryl interrupted, sitting back in the desk chair, left thumb going to his mouth and running along the underside of his bottom lip.

"How do you know?"

The defensive way Glenn asked that was funny enough to get a small smile out of the other man and even a quick snort that wasn't quite a laugh, "You're shit at lying. I don't know you at all and I can see that."

"Maybe I just want you to think that. Maybe I'm so good at it that... that you've fallen into my trap," he offered with an obvious grin, relaxing enough to try his hand at another joke.

"And maybe you should stop thinkin' a pipe dream like that is ever gonna happen," his husband - _husband._ so weird - retorted, his own smirk growing a bit. "So who do you know?"

Glenn sighed heavily, shaking his head, "No one. I was thinking a quick cash loan. $75 for filing fee isn't terrible, but this far out from my paycheck, I'd be paying them another $200 or something on top of that once I actually do get paid. And that's pretty much my check. I'll have to take another one out just to pay my bills and then I'll be stuck in that cycle again. I only got out of it last time because my sisters sent me cash for Christmas instead of books or whatever and I was able to scrape by on ramen and mistake-pizzas for a month." Not that he was eating well, but the last few months he had been paying his bills on time without having to borrow anything. He looked up from the table, where his eyes had rested while he stared at nothing, and over at Daryl, "What about you?"

=Now= 

 _".......ot go in.... ta.... afe.... est....nyone that's made it out or was planning on heading in, you're welcome to come. Just give us a call, we'll guide you in. We're scanning all channels on the CB.... If you're hearing this, do_ not _go into Atlanta. The city is_ not _safe. We have a camp a few miles northwest. Anyone that's made it out or was planning on heading in, you're welcome to come. Just give us a call, we'll guide you in..... If you're-_ "

Daryl switched the radio off and pulled the truck to a stop, looking over at Merle. They'd planned to head into the city from the north since the kid lived on that side, but now... 

"I think we should head to that camp," Merle said with none-too-kind smile. "Set ourselves up there, make nicey nice. Get us some help filling up our supplies."

"We're still looking for the chinaman."

Merle inclined his head in agreement, "Sure. Sure. But it'd be better to have a place to go back to at night once we're done searching, wouldn't it? Spend a few days up there, base of operations and the like. And when we're done, we take whatever supplies we need for the two of us-" A quick glare from his brother had him amending himself, "or three if we find the chink alive. Less work for us on the scavenging end and a place to keep what's ours safe while we do our best to honor those vows you don't remember taking. What were they supposed to be again? In sickness an' in health..."

 =Then=

Glenn flopped himself into one of the plush chairs in the lobby. They'd only paid for one night and at 11am the staff had promptly called to remind them of that fact. They also happily informed them that if they were not gone within the hour, they'd have to send a bill for a second night to the addresses on file if it could not be paid for. That got the two of them out of there fast.

He rolled his head to watch Daryl as the man threw the room keys on the counter and yelled at the manager for the staff being rude. There were more than a few racist slurs and physical threats of violence thrown in before security jogged over and Daryl retreated toward him. Having studied the man for a couple hours now, Glenn decided his face wasn't so weaselly after all. Just that, when his sight had been filtered by fear of death and the pain of a hangover, everything tended to look worse. Daryl had a decent face.

The man slapped Glenn on the shoulder as he passed, giving a harsh, "Get the hell up. We're getting gone, chink."

"Korean," Glenn corrected with a sigh even as he got up and made to follow his husband. _Husband._ He didn't think he'd be able to get used to that. And he hoped they could get the money so he wouldn't have to.

=Now=

Glenn trudged up the road back toward the camp, the afternoon sun beating down hard. He was wearing too much to be comfortable. And all he was wearing was jeans and a baseball shirt, but it was still too much. Summer in Georgia didn't suck any less just because the zombie apocalypse had started. 

The sound of the truck rumbling up behind him was more than easy to hear and he moved off to the side, turning to walk backwards as he waved. It wasn't a vehicle he recognized, but he knew the others were constantly on the radio trying to get in contact with whatever other survivors remained. These guys, whoever they were, had probably heard the call. Worth waving down and seeing if he could get a ride up.

The truck pulled to a stop just ahead of Glenn and he jogged up to the passenger door with bright smile, "Hi! Thanks for stopping. You heading to the quarry camp?"

"We sure are," the older man who leaned out the window said in a patronizing tone Glenn recognized right away. The kind he'd heard from both racist assholes and wealthy fratboys looking have fun at his expense. His own smile faltered a little at it, but he tried to pass it off as the sun bothering him by raising his hand up to block the light that his hat couldn't keep out of his eyes. 

"We heard your invitation on the radio. Mighty kind of ya'll to offer to share your space with those that need it. Mighty kind," the man continued before looking over his shoulder at the driver, "Ain't that right little brother?" Glenn couldn't hear the reply or see the other man from where he was, but the one he did see was nodding and turning back to him like he'd been given a 'yes'. "We all that far down the road?"

It was a little too late for Glenn to pretend he didn't know what the man was talking about and ended up shaking his head, "About two miles more. But the road is tricky, it splits three more times. I could show you if you give me a ride back?" The last was a question and he made it only because he figured he might as well. 

The man considered his request for a minute, rubbing his right hand across his chin, where his stubble was sure to be scratching it lightly. He turned at a noise from the driver's side and rolled his eyes, then gave a quick jerk of his head that way, "Go on. Get in. Round the other side."

Glenn was already walking as the the door creaked loudly open and two boots landed heavily on the gravel of the road. His head was mostly down when he came around the side and went to step around the driver. He didn't even really think about looking up before he climbed in, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked up automatically, squinting against the sun.

=Then=

" _Again?_ You couldn't wait one goddamn week before you get your ass back in jail?" Daryl yelled before quieting back down as he realized the whole restaurant could hear him. He hunkered down, holding Glenn's cellphone and his own head close to the table as he continued in angry whispers. Glenn couldn't hear most of it, but he didn't really want to. Daryl had asked if he had a cell phone so he could call his brother and Glenn had no reason to say no. That had been two hours ago. Daryl had ended up calling a good half dozen people before he got the number to the Fontana Police Station. Glenn had no idea where that was, but at least they'd let Daryl talk to the man.

Glenn realized the conversation was over when the phone was tossed into the corner of the booth on his side. Not breaking it, fortunately. He winced and looked back at Daryl, "No luck?"

Daryl was leaning back, shoulders slumped and looking moody enough that if anyone decided to come over and talk to them they'd have to have a death wish. Or the water with lemon they'd ordered. He shook his head, "I'll have to get him out 'fore I can get money off him. Only other person I can ask is-" He hesitated before shaking his head, "I'll ask around. We got ten days. We can take a few ta try figure things out."

 =Now=

Merle. His brother-in-law's name was Merle. And the man just _could not_ shut up. The whole rest of the way back to the camp all he did was laugh.


	2. Who's Fucking Who

=Now= 

At first he thought Merle would be the talker, the way he laughed on the drive up the quarry road their first day in camp, but it was Daryl who proved to never shut up. Once they had their truck backed up just at the 'entrance' to the camp area and were pulling their equipment out, Daryl started talking and just kept going. A running commentary of random, mostly meaningless shit that was more to fill the silence to than to be friendly. He walked the 'perimeter' of the group, where the cans were tied up to give warning of any animal or walker that might come their way and pointed out how stupid it was that it didn't extend the whole way around. What was the use and 'what the hell, people? You want an alarm you make sure it'll ring'.

Merle snorted and voiced his agreement as Shane tried to explain that they chose to use it to 'guard' the most vulnerable approaches since they didn't have a lot of twine. But that just got him some sass and backwoods sarcasm from the Dixon brothers. Daryl followed it up with a disersive snort and boldly claimed that if it wouldn't warn them about a chupacabra then it wouldn't warn them about walkers. That led to a twenty minute story about how chupacabras were completely real and Daryl had totally seen one this one time.

No one knew what to make of the two, least of all Glenn.

 =Then= 

"You saying my brother ain't good enough for you?" Merle poked him in the chest and the force of it was enough to make him stumble back until he was pressing up against the side of the pickup. The older man effectively trapped him there with his bulk encroaching into Glenn's personal space, preventing him from making a run for it to camp that was only a half mile away now. They'd stopped just short of coming into view of the approach so the Dixon's could have a friendly 'talk' with him. The talk was proving not to be all that friendly.

"No!" he answered, shaking his head and wondering how  _agreeing_ with Merle had ended up with the man angry at him. "No! I'm just- Neither of us wanted to stay married to each other, okay? I'm not saying he's a bad guy or-"

"You're just saying you're ashamed to be married to him." Another poke to the chest. "You're ashamed to be a Dixon." A third. "You're lucky you're family now, boy, anyone else talk like that about us, I'd kill 'em." A hand fisted into his shirt as he was pulled up to where his toes could barely scrape the ground.

Daryl blew a puff of smoke out of his mouth where he stood not three feet away, leaning against the truck all casual like his husband-by-law wasn't getting threatened with bodily harm by his brother. He took another drag before crossing his arms and rolling his eyes, "Let him alone, Merle. He didn't mean anything by it. You can see it on his face. He jus' don't know how to talk right."

 

=Now=

 

Dale is the first to corner Glenn and make sure he's alright after the Dixon brothers integrate themselves loudly and obnoxiously into the camp. He asks a lot of probing questions and Glenn ends up blurting out that he'd met Daryl before the State of Emergency was declared. 

"It was at the Emerald Star Casino, like, three days before things went bad," he said after a short pause, not realizing that Shane had walked up behind him. "I don't really remember a lot of that night, but my roommate, Corey, was having his bachelor party. God, he was supposed to be married a week ago."

Dale put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze, "I'm sorry about that."

Glenn shook his head and took a deep breath. He took a couple before he could continue, still shaking his head, "I met Daryl there. That's all I'm trying to say. I don't really know him but I've met him and-"

"And your roommate has questionable tastes in friends," Shane interrupted, clapping Glenn on the back as he started to move off. "But I'm glad it's just that spooking you."

Dale's face grew more sympathetic and he nodded along with Shane's assumption, "Sorry again. Seeing someone like that and not the friend that introduced you has got to be... well, it'd make anyone need some time to collect themselves. If you want us to leave you alone for a bit so you can, we will. I didn't mean to push you like that."

Glenn blinked a few times in confusion before biting at his bottom lip and slowly giving a nod, then moving away, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He didn't need to lie if everyone's assumptions did it for him. He just needed to be able to keep his mouth shut.

=Then=

Merle took a step back, both hands in the air like he was surrendering, his attention on Daryl, "Fine. Fine. He's your husband, _Darleena._  It's your problem to deal with."

"Shut up, Merle," Daryl muttered quietly before jerking himself away from the car and dropping the cigarette to the ground so he could violently snuff it out with a foot. A moment later he was poking his finger into Glenn's chest, right where Merle had, making Glenn wince from the pain of overly abused skin. Why did they have to pick the same spot?

"You don't tell no one that we're married," the man ordered, poking hard. "We're family now, but you ain't took my name and I sure in hell didn't take yours. No one needs to think I'm some fucking zipperhead loving faggot. You hear me?"

Glenn nodded and gulped, "Y-yeah."

"Now I already know you're shit at lying so don't even try to make up some dumb story here," he continued, still poking hard every so often, holding Glenn against the truck with that one finger. "Just keep your mouth shut. That's all you do. You're a Dixon now, you protect your own, jus' like me 'n Merle. And _you_ do that by not-" _poke._ "fucking" _poke._ "talking." _poke_.

"Right. No talking," he agreed quietly, hands pressed so hard against truck they were going white. 

=Now=

Merle called him over in that sickenly-sweet tone of his, all friendly on the surface but with the edge of a knife just waiting to break through and stab into his neck. Glenn didn't want to make a scene, didn't want to make things even more awkward, so he jogged over before his natural hesitation caused him to stand there staring for a little too long. He forced himself to smile when his head was up as he passed Carol and Lori at the cook fire. He forced himself to maintain it as he passed Carl and Sophia - who had somehow managed to climb on the hood of the Dixon's truck and _not_ be told to get lost - while they played some game with a pack of cards.

But it dropped once he was at the back end of the vehicle and Merle's arm was around his shoulders, his hand on the back of his neck, fingers digging in a little too hard. It didn't last long, just enough to be a warning. Anyone else watching and it would look like a friendly shoulder squeeze. Merle didn't lose his smile as his hand dropped to the small of Glenn's back and he led the kid to the two tents tucked away under a tree that had a better elevation than the rest of the camp. 

"I heard a rumor about you, chinaman," the older brother drawled out and Glenn couldn't help but tense up. His thoughts immediately went to what he'd told Dale (and Shane) and could that be counted as 'talking'? It probably did. He was probably dead. He was-

"-criptions filled next time you do," Merle was saying as his hands dropped away and he squatted down to dig into a pack just inside his tent. He came up with a pen and a small pocket notebook that had seen better days. "They ain't that hard to pronounce, but it's the dose that's hard to get right. You know the difference between 200mg and 500?"

Glenn must have looked very stupid in that moment as Merle glanced back up at him because he snorted and went back to the notepad, making a few scribbles, "Figures. World goes to shit and we get stuck with the one chink that ain't got no doctorin' know-how in his head. Look. Just grab whatever bottles you can of these if you see a pharmacy." The paper he was writing on was ripped off and shoved into his stomach with fake-friendly pat to hide that there was anything more to the gesture than a 'love-tap'. "An' don't tell no one, neither. Don't need anyone in our business."

Glenn nodded, blinking some more and shoved the paper into his pocket without looking at it. Prescriptions. Merle had a medical condition. That wasn't so bad. He could help with that.

=Then= 

They arrived back in camp with about two hours of sun left in the day. Glenn was in their truck, squeezed between them while Merle had gone back to his laughing. He alternated between calling Daryl 'Darleena' and Glenn 'Glenda'. Both Daryl and Glenn had the sense not to comment on it while they were all stuck inside the cab with him.

The truck stopped about half-way up the incline and they all piled out. Merle put on his friendly smile and Daryl followed along behind him with a disdainful sneer curling his lips. Glenn was pushed to walk in front of them and 'introduce' them to everyone. Which mostly meant just Shane and Dale and Andrea. Everyone else hung back or kept themselves busy with what chores they had. Another couple survivors joining up was not so uncommon yet that it was treated as a big deal.

Shane introduced himself as a the deputy sheriff he had been only a couple of weeks before. Dale as the owner of the RV. And Andrea as Andrea. Merle called her 'sugar tits' and made a comment about her ass and she walked off in a huff while Dale glared and Shane cringed. No one really liked them, but they were survivors and at that point that was all that was really required to join up. People didn't quite realize yet that things wouldn't get settled down again, that no one was going to come. It was only a couple weeks in. Atlanta had only just gotten bombed. The world wasn't past saving. Yet. 

=Now= 

"Books?" Glenn repeated, confused.

"Yeah. Books. Small word, even a dumbass like you should know what they are," Daryl answered, his attention on the crossbow in his lap as he carefully cleaned it and checked the tension of the string. "If we're going to be here for a while, we best have something to do when we ain't out hunting or keeping watch. Books is as good an entertainment as any."

Glenn bit at his bottom lip, brows creasing before he tilted his head and asked, "What kind of books?"

The other man - his husband and god what a cosmic joke that was at this point - shrugged, "Whatever's easy to carry. Paperbacks mostly. Hardbacks are too big to carry that many of an' don't burn as easy neither."

"You want to burn them?"

"Sure. After we're done with 'em. Make good firestarters. Paper's good for that."

He rocked on his heels as he thought about that. The request was a surprise. Sure, he'd thought to ask for any special requests after Merle had pulled him aside about his prescriptions, but he'd been thinking that maybe a six-pack would be on the list. He hadn't pictured Merle or Daryl as the reading type. Even Dale, who _was_ the reading type, hadn't yet asked for books.

"But... what  _kind_ of books?" Glenn repeated, wincing when Daryl shot him a glare. "I mean, you know... what genre? Mystery? Sci-fi? Adventure?"

Daryl's stare softened and his eyes went back to his crossbow, "Something interestin'. Merle likes the political biographies. Republican, not liberal shits. You probably can't find the stuff I like too easy if you're just hitting a corner store or whatever it is you hit."

"I can still try and keep an eye out," his voice was hopeful, curious. He was learning something new, something very unexpected about his new family. He was interested in this side of the brothers.

Daryl's hands stilled and he stared at the ground - or nothing, it was hard to tell - for a little while before getting back to his task. His voice was soft, so very soft it was hard to hear him. But it was a nice kind of soft, like he was trying to be gentle and wasn't sure how. "Religious shit. Not, you know, the bible and all, but the kind with stories about other cultures and their legends. That sort of thing. First Nations shi-stuff."

Glenn stood still for a few seconds before nodding and heading back toward the RV, "Sure."

"AND SOME BEER," Daryl yelled when he was half-way there, far enough that he had to yell to be heard.

Glenn saw Lori roll her eyes and shake her head, sharing a 'I cannot believe this asshole' look with Jacqui and Andrea. Lori promptly, and loudly, announced right after that she was going to look for more mushrooms and those edible berries they'd found a couple days ago. Glenn got roped into watching Carl for a bit - he'd be heading out the next morning so he had time to help out around camp- and he had to alter his path to head back towards the Dixon's because the Grimes' kid and Sophia were still sitting on the hood playing cards and kicking their heels like they were on an honest-to-god vacation.

He didn't notice Shane head over to Dale and ask him to take over watch, saying he was going to do another sweep of the can-string alarm lines. He didn't notice how Shane jogged off in the wrong direction for the usual sweep. He didn't notice how Shane veered in his path to head the same way Lori had. 

But Merle noticed.

Daryl noticed.

Not two days into the camp and they knew the score better than most.

They also knew at that point that no one else would give them the kind of credit such observations deserved but that, too, served them just fine.

"Jus' fine," Merle murmured as he came to lean up against the side of Daryl's truck and watch Glenn watch the two kids. They looked up at him with uneasy eyes, but he grinned brightly and nodded, that fake-friendly voice of his pouring out like molasses over flys too stupid to realize the sugar they wanted was going to drown them. "Looks like you folks got yourselves a mighty fine game goin' on. What we playing? Poker? Go fish?"

Sophia was the first to smile back and shyly shake her head. Carl followed with his own smile and a shrug, "WAR. We don't know poker."

"Well, you're in luck then. I jus' so happen to know ten variations of the game. Texas Hold'em is the most popular for some shit reason-" The kids tried (very unsuccessfully) to hide conspiratorial smirks over the language they knew their mothers would object to them hearing "-but we'll start with draw poker. Easiest to learn. Now, what do you have for a betting pool?"

At that moment, Glenn thought for sure his first impressions of the brothers, of Merle in particular, were just fucked up by the way the world was. The Dixons were protective of each other, and now him, and yeah they were pretty rude, but they couldn't be that bad in the long run. Not when Merle was that nice to a couple of kids he just met and Daryl was asking for books to pass the time.


	3. Meanwhile, Back on the Ranch...

=Then=

Glenn was wrong about the Dixons. Not wrong in the sense that they were good people and his first assessment of them had be mistaken, but wrong because he'd thought there was something redeemable about them at all. It didn't take long for the two of them to start slinging slurs about every non-white, non-christian that crossed their eyesight. Merle more than Daryl since Merle was more actively antagonistic and trying to get a rise out of people. That might even be what made Daryl's part in it all feel worse. It was just so  _casual_ with him.

The two never called him by his name. After the first week Glenn had given up on correcting them. He'd told them both he was Korean enough times that they knew. They just chose to ignore it. He'd thought maybe, just maybe, bringing back one of those books Daryl said he liked (and he had to go out of his way to hit a bookstore for it) would get a little bit of respect from the man. But no, it didn't. Just a quick 'thanks shortround' and then he was on his way again, off to do whatever.

 =Now= 

"They never call you names when you aren't here," T-Dog said, head tilting to the side as he looked at Glenn sitting next to him. After two weeks with the Dixon brothers in camp, he had started to notice a pattern to their racism. He just couldn't figure out the point of it.

Glenn's eyebrows shot up and a suitably unintelligent 'huh?' came out before Andrea chimed in from the other side of the fire, "He's right. Whenever you're walking around here and they want your attention it's 'chink' or 'chinaman' or something else, sorry, but as soon as you're off on a run and they haven't seen you for a while, they always ask about you by name."

T chewed on his squirrel meat, not really happy with it, as his eyes shifted across the half dozen low fires to the one the Dixon brother's shared. The fact that Daryl brought in so much freshly killed meat - even if it was squirrel most of the time - was one of the only reasons the rest of the camp hadn't asked them to leave yet. The group knew they owed a lot to the Dixons for their contribution. As much as they disliked the 'compromise' they had to put up with to get it.

His eyes shifted back to Glenn, who still looked completely stupefied, "They don't do that for anyone else."

=Then=

 Merle called him over - Merle was usually the one calling him over - as he trudged back into camp. He altered his path so he was heading to the back of the truck even as he saw Shane start toward him from the RV out of the corner of his eye. If Shane got to him soon enough then maybe he could cut short whatever talk his brother-in-law wanted to have.

He still flashed a quick smile as he came to a stop and slipped his backpack from his shoulders. Out of habit at first, and then more genuine as Merle actually took the heavy pack from him and set it on the open tailgate. "Uh... thanks."

Merle smiled back at him and Glenn realized that it wasn't the kind of smile that made him want to cringe it. It actually seemed as honest and real as his had been. But then Merle was turning away from him and opening up the backpack. He cringed when the first thing he saw were the box of sanitary pads for the women of the camp, "They really got you pussywhipped, don't they?"

He was saved from answering as Shane finally made it over, "Hey there, Dixon. There something you asked Glenn to get you?"

"No sir," Merle's smile became that pleasantly mocking one Glenn was more familiar with as he started emptying the pack. "Just trying ta help out a little. Figure I'd teach the chinaman how to pack better. Be able to bring more back with him next time."

"Pack better?" Glenn managed to keep his voice from stammering in offense as he drew Merle's attention back to him. He knew how to pack his stuff.

=Now=

 Shane put his hand on Carl's head and ruffled the kid's hair a bit as he nodded along with the others. The action was enough to draw the attention of the group. Most of them treated Shane as the default leader of their motley camp and over the tense days of the last few weeks had somehow trained themselves to watch for him. For when he moved, when he looked like he might be getting ready to say something. They looked to him now that same way.

"I think they respect you," he said slowly, eyes meeting Glenn's while his fingers gently combed through Carl's hair. The kid was curled up near him, Lori having already fallen asleep with her head on Shane's shoulder and her arm curled around her son's waist. Shane smiled and snorted a laugh at the return look he was getting. "I know, hard to believe. But I believe they respect you and what you do for us here. And I think they don't know how to express that. All they know is that racist bs they've been probably been spouting since the day they were born. Calling you by your name to your face would mean they have to acknowledge that you aren't as bad as they want to believe."

T-Dog snorted and shook his head, "Man, that is f- messed up."

"You were going to say something else," Carl grinned, trying to goad him on. "You can say it."

"I said what I meant to say," T insisted with laugh and a playfully pointed finger, "I own what I say and what I do. Honest people, like us, that's what we do. You're not going to call me a liar are you?"

Carl's grin grew wider as he shook his head 'no' and the group had a good laugh. The noise breaking the subdued silence that usually fell over the camp by that point. It drew the attention of a few others. Even Daryl turned around where he was sitting to have a glance at the commotion. 

=Then=

 "You think this is any good?" Merle asked, clearly disbelieving. And there wasn't even a note of mocking to his tone, either. Like he was actually concerned about how much Glenn was able to fit into his backpack. The man picked up the box of pads and box of tampons and ripped the two open so their contents were dumped onto the truck bed. The two cardboard boxes were then tossed over with perfect accuracy to the low fire the brothers kept near their tent. "That right there is half your bag space. All boxy edges and no room to put more in without crushing it. Dump 'em out, put 'em in a trashbag, you'll be as good as gold, boy."

Glenn's expression darkened and he bounced back on his heels before pushing forward and shouldering Merle to the side so he could put the scattered necessities back into his pack, "Yeah. Sure. And I'll get my arm tore off by a geek while I'm at it."

Merle pushed back, sending Glenn stumbling a few feet as he started to get in his face, "You suddenly gone stupid, ching-chong?"

And then Shane was between them, one hand on his gun and one splayed lightly on Merle's chest, "Hey! Hey! Look at me! Back off and look at me!"

Merle's eyes slid slowly from where Glenn cowered with shoulders hunched to Shane's face to Shane's hand and back to Shane, "Get your hands off me, pig 'fore I make you squeal."

Shane did lift his hand, but only just. Enough that he wasn't quite touching Merle anymore, but not to the point of backing off. He met the older Dixon's eyes, not flinching even a little, voice a soft hiss that Glenn couldn't really hear. But whatever was said, it was a threat. 

Merle stared for a long time, eyeing the man up and down before taking a step back and putting on that false smile of his as his hands went up, "Okay okay. We're all good. Just a misunderstanding is all. Was jus' trying ta help." His eyes fell back on Glenn and there was a promise of violence in them that had Glenn gulping and shaking where he stood. "You got them geeks on your heels, 'course you can't stop to pack right. You should talk ta me 'n Daryl later, once you're done handing this shit out. We'll help you figure out how to dump and run a little cleaner the next time you're out."

For all that it was framed as such, it was _not_ a suggestion.

=Now= 

 "What do you mean, they don't do that for anyone else?" Glenn finally asked after their laughter had faded back to a low murmur and Shane had woken Lori so she and Carl could get to bed. 

T-Dog leaned forward a little, to look past Glenn and Andrea and Amy, to where the Dixon brothers were now moving around, closing their fire down for the night. He leaned back and stretched his legs, keeping his voice low, "Just what I said. You leave camp sometimes before they know it and they'll start looking for you. Merle walks around like he owns the place like he always does, but he usually makes a rough perimeter walk before yelling at me or Dale and asking where you are. Daryl doesn't bother doing that kind of walk. He doesn't see you right away and he just yells up at whoever's on watch if they've seen you around or if you're on a run. But they both use your name."

He scratched at his cheek, pausing to have another quick glance at the Dixon fire as Shane sat back down. He followed T's line of sight and raised an eyebrow in question. T shook his head, then nodded at the Morales' fire, "He never calls him anything but spic. Even if he's down getting water for us to boil."

"I don't think he's ever used T's name," Andrea joined back in. "And I'm not going to repeat the word he uses for him and Jacqui."

"Oh sure, you can't say the n-word but you can repeat 'chink', thanks," Glenn bit back with a self-depreciating grin. 

Andrea had the sense to wince a little and look down as she said 'sorry', though she was still smiling and another round of low laughter rippled through the group.

=Then=

Glenn took as long as he could to distribute what he'd brought back from his run before making his way back to where the Dixon's had set up. Daryl had come back not long before with a brace of six squirrels and three rabbits. He'd called his brother to start skinning them as soon as he'd gotten back, his voice ringing out loudly like he expected Merle to be holed up in the RV or on the other side of the camp trying to mess with someone. Like Merle usually was.

The two were now near the main cook fire, where Carol was often found tending to a soup pot or attempting to prepare what she could of the canned goods they'd had set out for the day. She was there now and there was still plenty of light out. The two brothers were joking about something or other and Carol was pretending to ignore them because Ed's eyes were on her. She still smiled at Glenn when he walked past to take a seat  next to Daryl. There was space next to Merle, but he'd rather not be that close. Everyone could see the three of them, so he felt safe enough that if something did happen, Dale or Shane or T-Dog would be able to reach him in time to save his ass.

"'Bout time you got your ass back here, rice ball," Merle said casually as he set his knife to the last of the squirrels. The fur on them wasn't worth saving, so he'd gotten through them faster than Daryl had the rabbits. Glenn knew this because Daryl had told him as much the first time he'd brought back a string of squirrels for the camp to share.

"Was one of them walkers after you when you got that shit today?" Daryl asked, turning to squint at Glenn. He wasn't surprised Merle had already told his brother what happened.

Glenn entertained the thought of shrugging it off, but there was this flutter of hope that the brothers were actually worried about him and he pushed that thought aside, nodding instead, "Yeah. Two, actually. It was this gas station I've hit before. It's been clear the last three times so I didn't think about checking for geeks. I'd just grabbed the boxes when they came at me from the other side of the rack."

"Well don't do that no more, dumbass!" Daryl barked at him and slapped the back of his head. It wasn't hard, just quick and sharp, enough to make Glenn wince. He probably deserved that. He hadn't told Dale or Shane that he'd had trouble. Shane would have insisted he start taking someone with him on the runs, that it was just further evidence he needed someone to watch his back. And he didn't. He was fine.

"Sorry," he muttered, shoulders hunching. "I learned my lesson. Promise."

"Good," Daryl ended the chastisement as quickly as he'd started it and stood up. His hand slapped Glenn's shoulder lightly to get him to scoot over to the seat Daryl had just vacated. Confused at the request, Glenn still did as he was asked. He wasn't sure he should have when Daryl bent over behind him and put a knife in one of his hands and pointed to the last rabbit with his other, "Now it's time you learned to skin these fuckers. Fiver here's the biggest so you got more room to make mistakes."

=Now=

Glenn's eyes drifted to the Dixon camp long after the two had both gone to bed. Dale was just coming down from his watch to join the group at the fire and Morales was heading up for his two hour shift. T-Dog watched the kid as silence reigned over them, each person lost in their own thoughts.

"So what have we been laughing about this whole time?" Dale's huffing and aching broke the spell and he was greeted with smiles.

"The Dixons have a crush on Glenn," Amy answered and Glenn nearly choked as his head whipped back around to stare at her while everyone else burst out laughing. She scooted over and pushed at the kid's shoulder, "Oh come on, it was funny."

Glenn could only sputter his denial of that while another round of laughs came, this time for his reaction. He honestly had hoped that was the last of it when Andrea started talking about sending a car down to the highway to watch for survivors since chatter on the CB had dried up.

Dale shook his head, "I don't think that's a good idea. What if we get someone like the Dixons? And I'm not trying to say Glenn's friends are bad people, but well..."

"They aren't-" Glenn started to protest but cut himself off at the same time T-Dog was asking incredulously, "They're Glenn's friends?"

"Well, maybe friends is a harsh word," ( _"you think?"_ ) Dale began and waved a hand at Glenn as if it would serve an adequate apology. "But you knew them before and-"

"You knew them before?" T burst out a little loudly and had to pull his voice in low before going on, "You never said anything about knowing them."

Glenn's hands were on his face, rubbing down it hard with a groan, "I only met Daryl before. Just Daryl. It was at Corey's bachelor party."

"Corey knew him? Corey never said anything about him."

Dale put his hands up to try and reinsert himself, "From the sounds of it you knew Corey, too. Did you go to the bachelor party?"

T-Dog opened his mouth, then shut it and shook his head.

"Well, there you go," Dale answered. "You didn't know all his friends and I'm sure he didn't know all of yours. People live in different circles. Those circles don't usually overlap more than a few people here and a few there. Now, I don't know this Corey, but if the two of you did, then I'm sure he was a good person. And if he thought Daryl was a friend enough to invite to his bachelor party, then maybe there's something he saw in him. But maybe, and I don't mean to speak poorly of those that aren't with us anymore, maybe he just wasn't a very good judge of character with all his friends. I don't think any one of us can say we've all made good choices in our friends. Sometimes we pick bad ones."

There was a guilty silence after and after what seemed like a good ten minutes of it, Glenn made to get up. Shane stopped him with a soft, "Hey. Before you go."

The kid waited there in a crouch, then slid back into his seat, "What?"

"About your run into town tomorrow... I think you should take someone to watch your back."

"No. I'm fine," he protested as he always did.

"I know you are, but I'm concerned for your continued safety. Carol told me-"

Glenn deflated immediately, a barely audible 'she didn't' escaping like the last bit of air from a balloon.

"-yes, she did. She overheard you telling the Dixon's about getting attacked on your last run when they were showing you how to butcher that rabbit a couple days ago. You got jumped and someone being there to watch for you would -"

"I always get jumped!" he hissed back, finally standing. "That's the point! That's why I go  _alone._ Because I'm faster than everyone here and I can get away. Someone coming with me would just slow me down."

"Look, kid-"

"No! I'm _not_ taking anyone. I can do this myself. The only reason they even got that close was because I got lazy and assumed it would still be clear. I won't make that mistake again. Even if it's a place I've hit before, I'll check it first." He bounced from one foot to the other, keyed up now as he met Shane's eyes. He felt like he was being stared down, but this was something he didn't want to put on anyone else. He licked his lips and walked off with a second, firmer, "I'm not taking anyone."

.....

Glenn decided he might like the Dixon's a little more than he liked Shane. They were pretty crap to him, but they hadn't heard his news and assumed he couldn't handle himself. They just reminded him to not be stupid about it next time and let him go. That didn't mean he thought well of them... just that... well, maybe Shane was right. Maybe they did respect him. In their own way.


	4. We Ain't Whistling Dixie Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for _Survival Instinct_.

=Then= 

Daryl had never been in his face before. Not like this. Not literally nose to nose as he pushed bodily into him, shoulders hunched forward as he met his eyes with an unblinking stare. All intimidation and promise of violence to come if he didn't back up. And even as he backed up, Daryl stayed with him, pushing him back one stumbled step at a time.

"You wanna repeat that?" he snarled as his pushing moved the two of them away from the Dixon tents and toward the center of camp. Toward the empty space in front of the RV. Toward the small circle of people that was growing bigger, no one sure what to do. Someone had already started running for Shane, but Shane was down by the lake.

"I-I just..." Glenn stammered, heart pounding in his chest and one hand coming up to try and put some kind of defense up between him and Daryl. Daryl slapped it away with another snarl, his eyes never leaving Glenn's. And then his shirt was grabbed and his lips were being crushed by Daryl's and all he could hear was the rush of blood to his brain and he was sure he must be going crazy.

But as fast as the lip lock had come, Daryl was shoving him away. Shoving him hard enough that he fell down, onto his side, his shoulder bruising. He landed hard and Daryl followed it up with a literal kick to his ass, "You happy now, fag?"

Daryl started to back away, yelling at the top of his lungs, "You happy now you got that damn kiss you want? You best stop trying to be all up in my ass over it now you got your wish. Fucking chink ass twink fucking mooning over me. Think I ain't noticed that? I been tryin' ta be nice. But you gotta take that an' twist it an' make it all sick. Fuck you." He finally looked up, glaring at the circle of people, ignoring how Carol and Lori both held their children close and tried to cover their eyes and ears. How the people huddled in abject horror. His arm swung around, "This don't concern none of ya. Ya'll best stay away from me if you know what's good."

"Dixon!" Shane's voice boomed as he scrambled up the last few feet of the path. He started for Daryl, but Merle was there, blocking him and in his face the way Daryl had been in Glenn's. 

"You got something you want to say to me?" the older brother roared at him, snapping the former cop's attention away from Daryl. 

Daryl turned around and stomped off, yelling "Goin' huntin'" over his shoulder to leave his brother and Glenn to deal with the fall out.

=Now=

"You like that kiss?" Daryl's breath was hot in his ear and his body was heavy across his side. "That get your jimmies rustled? Make you feel like a married man?"

His hand wasn't on Glenn's mouth anymore, but Glenn still kept his lips tightly shut. He gulped hard, breathing through his nose as he tried not to focus on how tightly coiled Daryl's body was against his. How it felt like he could snap at any moment and kill him without making a sound. He couldn't even see the other man because of the lack of light in his tent this long after night had fallen. His eyes weren't quite adjusted yet.

The heavy breath on his ear moved to his cheek. And then something hot and wet slid up it from his chin to his temple. 

"Did you just lick me?" Glenn asked before his mind caught up with his mouth and he could stop the hissed and mildly horrified words from coming out.

Daryl's chuckle was low in his ears, and he thought in that split second he was going to die. Three days after the fact and now Daryl was in his tent, licking him. Was that like the mafia's kiss of death? Was he going to be suffocated or have his throat slit? Which hurt less? He wanted to go out that way.

=Then=

T-Dog was the first to come to his side as Merle and Shane had their shouting match. He was on his knees, helping Glenn sit up and shaking his head, "Dude. You should have told me you were crushing hard on that cracker. I could have told you it wouldn't go right and saved you this."

"Yeah. I'm an idiot. Shouldn't have asked him to kiss me," Glenn groaned through his glare and rubbed his ass. Daryl hadn't really hurt him, though his butt was probably going to be sore for a couple hours. More than anything, Daryl had _embarrassed_ him. He shouldn't have confronted him while they were in camp, where everyone had to witness that. 

"I was joking," T deadpan'd as Jacqui got to their side, Andrea and Amy on her heels. They helped Glenn get to his feet and started to move him toward the RV as Shane managed to lead Merle away. Which didn't seem right and Glenn held still for a second, watching the confrontation, brows scrunched. It wasn't Shane leading Merle, it was Merle pushing Shane, moving him toward a more open area. Where they both could move easier if a fist fight broke out. He gulped as it hit him like a rush of cold air just how smart Merle was.

"Glenn, don't worry him," Dale was saying into his ear, trying to urge him to move once more. "Shane's got him under control. He's drawing him off. You'll be okay once you're inside."

Glenn had to shake his head. How could they be so blind to what was happening? Shane wasn't in control. Merle was. Merle led the confrontation, he manipulated it. Shane danced to his steps, not the other way around. "No... he's..."

"Glenn," T-Dog stepped into his view, cutting off the sight of the two. Tried to use his bulk to snap his friend out of whatever haze he was in. "You're safe now. You'll be safe inside. Come on. Please. We're not going to let them hurt you again."

=Now= 

"I don't understand," Glenn whispered out, eyes on the ceiling of his tent. Daryl sat next to him, now, book in his lap and Glenn's ball cap on his head so the light of the lantern would make it look like Glenn was the one sitting up and trying to relax into a good book.

Daryl shrugged, turning a page, and murmuring so quietly Glenn could barely hear him and he was only a foot or so away, "Merle would kill me if he thought I actually wanted to do that sort of shit. Didn't realize you were joking. He did, though. Told me so when I got back. So... ya know... sorry about kicking your ass."

"Yeah. He told me that, too," he murmured, still not sure what to think at this point. Daryl was so different when Merle wasn't in hearing range. When no one else could see him. Like he was hiding himself away. "I thought he was going to kill me. But he just started laughing when I went to apologize to him."

Daryl snorted and bit at his right thumb. A nervous tic of his Glenn had noticed. Something he did when he couldn't pull a smoke out or he was trying keep his hands away from his eyes. "If I'd realized it, I would've just, you know... slapped ya upside the head or something. I don't really mind talking about the whole family thing with ya. Just gotta keep it quiet is all."

Glenn nodded and rolled his head so he could watch Daryl, "Okay. Sorry."

"S'okay, shortround," the man said, fingers inching up the side of the page he was on, readying himself for the turn as his eyes reached the bottom. "Jus' don' do it again. Not in public. Not like that." 

=Then= 

"Did you really ask him to kiss you?" Shane blinked at him in disbelief from the door of the RV, rubbing at his chin and shaking his head. He and Merle had a long shouting match that ended with Merle telling him to fuck off and 'keep your twink in check.'

Glenn let his head stay down where it'd been hanging for the last ten minutes while he'd been fussed over. T and Jacqui and Andrea and Amy and Dale and now Shane all staring at him like he was crazy. He took a deep breath and nodded slowly in answer, biting at his bottom lip.

"What the hell, man?" T-Dog muttered at the same time Jacqui let out a soft "Oh, honey, no." and wrapped an arm around him to give him a hug.

"I'm sorry," he said, honestly sorry he'd made a mess of everything like that.

"It's not your fault," Andrea said, arms crossed to hug herself. "Not really. They shouldn't have reacted like that."

"We're all in agreement they over reacted," Dale interrupted, nodding and putting his hands on his hips. "But I disagree that it's not his fault. This was... I'm sorry to say it, but it was predictable. You've seen how they are. You've heard what they call people who aren't exactly like them. There was no way they'd take this well. You had to know that going in."

There was a soft admonishment of _'Dale!'_ from Andrea before Shane broke in, "He's right. I'm sorry, but it's true. That's the sort of thing you keep to yourself around those kind of people."

=Now= 

"But then, how?" He asked, trying to do what he'd been told to and keep his profile low so it didn't look like more than one person was in the tent.

Daryl bit at his thumb again and shrugged, "Like this, I guess."

"Okay. But... how do I let you know I want to talk to you? I'm not allowed to go near you right now."

The other man finally tore his eyes away from the book and looked down at him for a moment, then his eyes were on the floor of the tent. In that space that sat between them. He was thinking. He knew a lot of ways to hide things from Merle, but Glenn was different. Glenn wasn't good at lying or sneaking around in the woods. It had to be something that he could pull off without the rest of the over-protective camp getting wind of.

"Merle," he finally said. "You tell Merle you got a book for me. This one here." He tapped the one he was reading. "I'll leave it so you can hand it to him. When he gives it to me, I'll know you want me to come over and talk."

"Will Merle go along with that?"

Daryl nodded, eyes going back to the page he was on, "Sure. I'll let him know it's 'cause you're shit at keeping your mouth shut."

Glenn rolled his head back and brought his hands up to cradle the back of his head, "So... you guys... you really think of me as family?"

=Then=

Glenn was finally allowed to leave the RV an hour later. He'd been dressed down by Shane and Dale and they'd argued with Andrea and Jacqui, and T-Dog had been somewhere in the middle. It got to the point that he stopped listening and just laid his head down on the table. Let them make all the assumptions they wanted and talk over him like he was a stupid teenager with a schoolyard crush on the wrong bruiser. 

Once he was out, though, he tore off toward his tent at a fast pace, ignoring T's attempt to call him back to talk. He stalked off into the trees, angry at everyone, but especially himself. Why the hell didn't he know when to shut up? Why couldn't he lie even save his life? How had he failed so miserably to pick up those sort of survival instincts when every video game he'd ever played pretty much rewarded him for it? He mentally berated himself all the way to the alarm line, stopping just short of hitting it as he realized he must of overshot his tent.

Glenn headed back, paying more attention this time. He stopped again when he got to the edge of the trees and had yet again somehow missed his tent. He did an about face turn and walked back, carefully looking for the other tents that had sprung up around his. They were still there and his should have been in the middle of those two, right next to that tree. But it wasn't. His tent was gone. It wasn't collapsed, just... gone.

Who the hell would take his tent?

"...Merle," the name was out of his mouth a half second later and he had to shut his eyes and rub his temples for a moment. This was payback by the older Dixon. Daryl had already gotten his turn and now Merle was having his. He knew he should tell Shane or T-Dog. Dale. Andrea, even. But that would mean bringing more attention to the whole fiasco that he really didn't want at the moment.

Taking a deep breath, he wound his way through the trees at the back of the camp and over to the area the Dixon's had claimed. Sure enough, his tent was there. It was right next to Merle's, hidden from most lines of sight by the blue truck on one side and the trees on the other.  Kind of wedged in to the point of a triangle formed by the two. The only easy way to see it was from his current angle of approach. Merle had hidden it well.

Glenn hung his head and trudged over, trying to keep himself from being seen by the others near the RV. Merle was shaking his own tent out a little from having moved it, too. Just enough to accommodate Glenn's. He didn't have any illusions that the older Dixon didn't know he was there.

=Now=

"Our daddy's dead," Daryl said, voice even quieter and it was a struggle to hear him. "Me an' daddy and Jess and daddy's friend Buck, we was out hunting about five days after we... after our... anyway. I was tryin' ta get daddy in a good mood so he'd help spring Merle. Merle and him, they didn't get along too well, but we was all family, ya know? We take care of our own. I figured if I could get Merle out, I could talk Merle inna lending me enough for the fee. But walkers jumped us. Killed Buck, all but killed daddy. Bit Jess. Jess put 'em down."

Daryl took a deep breath and closed the book, shoving it to the side, "Merle an' you. You're all I got left. Even if it's just a name on a paper and it probably don't mean nothing anymore, I still signed it. I ain't never woken up married after a bender before. An' I been on plenty of benders, you best believe that. Don't remember half of 'em but I know they must have been a hell of a ride."

He licked his lips and brought his thumb up to rub at his jaw for a long moment of silence, then nodded as he dropped his hand to play with the edges of his pants, "You the only one I ever married. I don't know what that means about me. I really don't, but... has to mean something, right? More nights drunk and out at places like that than I can count over the last twenty years and you're the first one that ever got me to sign my life away. I mean... I don't even like you much, you know... But... you don't have ta like someone for them to be family. They just is." 

=Then= 

Merle stood up and crossed his arms, waiting. Practically challenging Glenn to protest the change in sleeping arrangements.

Glenn shut his eyes and stuffed his hands in his pockets, "I'm sorry for asking Daryl to kiss me. I was trying to make a joke, not-"

His apology was cut off by the loudest laugh he'd ever heard Merle give. It was loud enough that he could see people looking over at them in his peripheral vision and he knew that certain people would be racing over once they realized he was there. He had to make this fast.

"I mean it. He was doing that thing he does where he just stares at you and it was the first thing that popped into my head. I was trying to break the tension, not-"

Merle's hand came down on his shoulder, patting him before wrapping around in a friendly hug, "I know that. You might be a faggot, but you ain't got no death wish, Jackie Chan. An' I know you ain't got eyes on my brother, married or not. You don't look at him with big doe eyes and drooling lips."

The people in his peripheral were running now and before he could say anything, Shane was right there, hand on his gun, staring Merle down, "Let him go, Dixon."

"Let him go? You actin' like I'm takin' him hostage or something. We were jus' having a friendly chat, weren't we, oreo?" Merle grinned down at him, shaking his shoulder a little, like they had suddenly become best friends.

A panicked smile took over Glenn's face. He didn't want another scene. And he  _did_ want to talk to Merle. To get things sorted. Shane and the others would just get in the way with their concern. He turned his eyes to the cop and nodded his agreement, "He's telling the truth. I came over to apologize for earlier. I'm fine. Really." _  
_

"See? Nothing wrong," Merle added, still keeping his arm around Glenn's shoulder.

Glenn gulped nervously and he knew Shane saw it. It was in Shane's face, the tension in his body. But he didn't know how to tell the man that he was nervous because he was there, not because of what Merle was doing. 

"I'm moving my tent, too," he said and regretted instantly as Merle's arm tightened just slightly around his neck. Enough to be a warning. But now that he'd said it, he had to keep going. And if he declared where it would be, Merle wouldn't be able to hide him away where he didn't want to be. "Up near the front of the Dixon's truck. So everyone can see it. A compromise. So Daryl knows where I'm sleeping and that I won't be going near him when he gets back."

Merle's arm loosened and he let his hand slide over to the back of Glenn's neck, "My little brother's the sensitive sort. It'll make him feel better not to have the local twink hidden away where he can't keep an eye on him. He'll calm down after a few days. But this'll help. Call it a truce. Pigs like that kind of shit, don't they? Love rollin' in it."

Shane's glare swept from Merle to Glenn and Glenn knew he'd be getting a dressing down later for his stupidity. But he'd managed to force Merle's hand on where his tent was and that was worth it.

=Now= 

"You have four sister-in-laws," Glenn blurted out, needing to fill the silence after that confession. "Or had. I don't know anymore. My family is, was, in Michigan. I moved to Atlanta for college. Dropped out. Got disowned. I haven't talked to any of them, my sisters, my mom, my dad, since Easter. Well, my sisters, anyway. Dad hasn't talked to me in a couple years and mom only writes to ask if I'll be going back to school. Dad said he'd only accept me back if I apologized for the shame of dropping out like that and go back to my major. My sisters call- called when they could. Usually just the major holidays. They don't- didn't want to risk dad disowning them, too."

He took a deep breath and drummed his fingers on his stomach, "They wanted me to get an Engineering Degree. I didn't know what I wanted, just that I wanted to take some time off from school to figure it out and dad... he didn't understand. Did you know that there's a 22% chance that every Asian-American in college will get an Engineering degree?Used to be higher, like, 30% a few decades ago. It was a 'sure bet'. Something that would get me a position with General Motors or Ford. The Auto Industry dominates Michigan and they wanted me to get something that would let me stay close to home but still make a better life than they were able to provide. That's what dad said. He wanted me to have a better life than him. But how could I have a better life if I wasn't even happy? I wasn't even that good with the classes. I barely made the 3.0 I needed to stay enrolled."

"What did ya do, then? Once you dropped out?" Daryl asked, his tone more curious than Glenn had ever heard it.

"Delivered pizzas." Glenn glanced over and saw the raised eyebrows. He gave a non-committal shrug and went back to looking at the ceiling. "It paid the bills. Mostly. Let me have time to do things I like. Played a lot of video games. Portal. Fallout. Silent Hill. Should have played more zombie apocalypse ones. Maybe I'd have learned to fight these things better if I had."

"You can't learn to fight from twiddling your thumbs all day. You learn to fight by fightin'," his husband - he was kind of getting used to thinking of him like that - drawled before he shut off the lantern and dropped Glenn's hat on the floor. He slid to the back door of the tent, and Glenn was glad his tent had a door in both the front and back at this point, opening it far more quietly than Glenn knew how. "See ya in morning, chinaman. Remember, you get within ten feet of me or glance at me funny, and I'll kick your ass again."

"...goodnight to you, too." It came out sarcastic in the dark, but Glenn said it with a smile.


	5. Promises to Keep

=Now=

The way everyone had been talking about Daryl, heck even the way Daryl had acted when he heard the news, made Rick think things were going to be a lot harder with him than they actually were. It was almost surreal how easily the younger Dixon capitulated and agreed to Rick's plans. He had a bit of a mouth and made it known, but when push came to shove, Daryl didn't.

He sucked up whatever he was feeling, and followed. 

=Then= 

"Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon?" Dale asked as Shane came back from the Peletier's fire. It was a topic everyone had sort of been avoiding since the group got back. "He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind."

"I'll tell him," T-Dog answered before anyone else could. "I'm the one that dropped the key. It's on me."

Rick shook his head, "I cuffed him. That makes it mine."

"Guys, it's not a competition," Glenn decided to speak up before it became one. Daryl wouldn't like that his brother was dead. Heck, Glenn didn't like that Merle was dead. He wished he'd been given the key instead and someone else played walker bait in the car just to make sure his brother-in-law got out. Even if he was tweaked out, at least he wouldn't have hurt Glenn. Well, not badly. The Dixon's were taking the whole family thing pretty seriously and after five weeks with them in camp, public displays of aggression aside, Glenn was confident that both honestly expected him to watch his back the way they had subtly taken to watching his.

That didn't mean he wanted to be the bearer of bad news. He'd rather not have to take a public fall for it and have Daryl yelling at him about it if he thought he had to protect appearances. "I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy."

T-Dog shook his head, not accepting that, "I did what I did. Hell if I'm gonna hide from it."

=Now=

"The hell with all ya'll. Just tell me where he is. So's I can go get 'em," Daryl was on the verge of tear as he said it. It was the most real emotion anyone in camp had seen him express since the day he tossed Glenn on his ass. He kept having to wipe his eyes to keep them clear and if anyone said anything, he wouldn't have been able to deny what they were.

"He'll show you," Lori said from the side, hand on the doorway of the RV and her eyes locked on her husband. She was mad at Rick, but trying to keep it civil. She already knew the most she could do to deter the man was make it a hard decision. Her voice was low, not quite sarcastic, but inching closer with every syllable. "Isn't that right?"

Rick looked at her, knew what she was doing. But he also knew what he had to do and nodded, his focus moving back to Daryl, "I'm going back."

Daryl didn't respond, he didn't have to. He walked past Rick to where he dropped his crossbow and picked it up. Rick, feeling things were resolved for the moment, moved off, grabbing his uniform and heading to his tent to change clothes. 

But Daryl didn't go back to his own tent, he marched right over to Glenn, right in full view of everyone. He stopped just short of him, entire body shaking as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. As far as anyone else knew, the two of them were on the outs. Daryl ignoring Glenn instead of railing and cursing when the kid got close. But that was broken now.

Glenn stared at him, arms crossed and shoulders hunched. He didn't try to hide the guilt on his face. And when Daryl took a deep, shuddering breath, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, Glenn couldn't keep the words inside anymore, "I didn't know he was still alive until after dark."

Daryl gulped down a breath and nodded along, eyes locked on his husband. He needed to hear that. He kept nodding, already mentally agreeing with the obvious. Going back into the city after sunset, with that many walkers? That would have been stupid on top of stupid.

"After I found out, I..." Glenn's head dropped and he couldn't bring himself to look at Daryl. But Daryl's hand came over to his shoulder. Patted it once. Twice. Then dropped away. He didn't say anything, just walked off to get his things. He didn't notice it, but the loose group watching the two interact publicly for the first time - exchange civil words for the first time - in the last ten days looked visibly relieved. More than not having to deal with Merle for a few hours, something good beyond Rick's return had come from the whole mess. Daryl no longer seemed to have a grudge against Glenn.

=Then= 

"We could lie," Amy piped up from where she was tucked against her sister and Glenn's brain froze, stuck on how absolutely cruel that suggestion was. 

"Or tell the truth." Andrea's sensible rebuttal helped him relax. Someone was thinking clearly and- " Merle was out of control." That wasn't going to over well if they were that blunt. "Something had to be done or he'd have gotten us killed." She leaned forward to look Lori in the eye, as if she was the one that needed reassurance about the actions taken. "Your husband did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it is nobody's fault but Merle's."

"And that's what we tell Daryl?" Dale asked with complete disbelief. Saying the words Glenn was already thinking. Dale didn't always say the right thing, but he was a good man, with a good head on his shoulders and he tried. Dale looked directly at Andrea, "I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that. Do you?"

For her part, Andrea shook her head and let it drop into her knees while Dale continued to the rest of the group around the fire, looking at them each in turn, "Word to the wise, we're going to have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt."

=Now= 

It was on the roof that Rick first noticed something off about his first assessment. When Daryl had his crossbow pointed at T-Dog and his gun at Daryl's head. Daryl looked ready to pull the trigger, and Rick wasn't going to chance that he wouldn't, but he backed down so quickly. And once he had, he was calm. Calmer than he was sure Merle would have been based entirely on first hand experience. And it wasn't even a state of shock. Daryl just seemed to have control over how much he was going to let his anger affect him.

He was almost subdued when he wiped his eyes for all that moments before he'd been yelling his grief into the sky. He'd sounded like a dog yelping as it got kicked, confused about why it was being punished and just wanting the world to make sense again. It was about the most heartbreaking noise Rick thought he'd ever heard. But there the man was now, calm, mostly collected, and politely asking T-Dog for a doo-rag or something. 

There was a focus to the man and he wondered how Shane had managed to miss that. Dale had seemed so sure that rational thought wasn't something they'd be getting out of Daryl. And sure, Rick had gone along with that, but Rick didn't know Daryl. All he had until today was what he'd been told and what he'd had to deal with with Merle. And the picture all that painted wasn't matching up with the man in front of him. He couldn't be sure his changed assessment was accurate until it was tested. But finding a test wasn't that hard.

"He left the building? Why the hell would he do that?" Glenn asked as the rest of the group joined Daryl at the broken window. Rick could tell he was genuinely surprised. Like he'd have expected a very different action from the older Dixon.

"Why wouldn't he? He's out there alone, as far as he knows," Daryl answered in a casual, matter of fact tone, his eyes taking in the whole of the window before he backed off to let others look. He wasn't acting like Glenn was a bother or a even someone he couldn't stand. Nothing about the man added up right. "Doin' what he's gotta do. Surviving."

"You call that surviving? Just wandering in the streets?" T-Dog shook his head, trapped somewhere between guilt and disbelief that Daryl seemed to be taking this so well. "Maybe passing out? What are his odds out there?"

"No worse than being handcuffed and left to rot by you sorry pricks." The younger of the Dixon's retorted before moving to look Rick in the eyes. His posture and tone challenging, like he had to prove he was just as tough as his brother when he talked him up. "You couldn't kill him. I ain't so worried about some dumb dead bastard."

Rick met his eyes, taking the challenge for what it was, "What about a thousand dumb dead bastards? A different story?"

"Why don't you take a tally? Do what you want," Daryl broke eye contact first and tried to move past Rick, "I'm gonna get him." A hand on his chest and a shove back stopped him, but Daryl wasn't throwing a punch. "Get your hands off me! You can't stop me!"

"I don't blame you," Rick said, forcing Daryl to meet his eyes again. The man was already focused on him, but there was a panic to his expression that Rick recognized. A desperation. "He's family. I get that. I went through hell to find mine. I know exactly how you feel." He paused to let that sink in, to let Daryl have a moment to think about that. Give him a second to back away from the panic and think clearly. The way he looked at Rick, he could tell Daryl didn't really want to fight or push away. That he believed Rick, but he had a brother to get. Rick nodded slightly and glanced between Daryl and T-Dog and back again, "Now he can't get far with that injury. We can help you check a few blocks around, but _only_ if we keep a level head."

Daryl stiffened a little and visibly swallowed, his eyes unblinking and locked on Rick's. He breathed in and his head nodded slowly, "I can do that."

He really didn't understand how Shane could have missed this about Daryl. The calm acceptance and the willingness to follow if presented with reason. The others in the camp, maybe. But Shane? Shane had training. He knew how to talk to people, keep a situation from escalating. And he'd been leading that group for the last month and a half or so. It didn't make sense that he'd let himself be so blind to how different Daryl was to Merle when he'd freely admitted they needed the meat Daryl's crossbow brought them. Shane should have been actively trying to make friends with this man. Make him feel included. A part of the group, not just someone they tolerated.

=Then=

T-Dog shook his head, not letting this go, "I was scared. And I ran. I'm not ashamed of it." 

"We were all scared," Andrea snarked back, the frustration of the day, of the day to come, bleeding through. "And we all ran. What's your point?"

"I stopped long enough to chain that door."

Glenn's head turned slowly toward T, eyes wide and hoping that statement didn't mean what he thought it meant.

"Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through there. Not that chain. Not that padlock." T looked directly at Andrea, meeting her inch for inch, "My Point: Dixon's alive. And he's still up there. Handcuffed on that roof. That's on us." No one made to stop T when he stood up, hand on his side where Merle had punched him into submission hours before.

Glenn stared out into the fire, panic rising in his throat. Merle was alive. He was alive and they could have gone back for him. Someone else could have taken over driving the red car and pulled the geeks away with the alarm. Glenn could have gotten through to the roof and freed him. He couldn't do it now, but he could have before. On their way out of the city, on the highway. Just pulled over and told him what was up.

"Daryl's going to kill me."

He didn't realize he'd spoken aloud until Shane's voice cut into his thoughts, "He touches you again, he'll get his ass beat. He knows that."

Glenn looked up, eyes darting around the circle while he shook his head. His hands rubbed nervously at his knees, "That's not-"

"Why would he kill you?" Rick interrupted, brows creased, concern for him obvious and Glenn felt oddly comforted by that. Rick had been a lot more respectful of him than most of the camp had and he'd only known him for a few hours. He acted like Glenn knew what he was doing and got the others to listen when Glenn couldn't. He liked Rick.

"Glenn has a crush on Daryl and Daryl's a homophobic asshole," Andrea answered for him, making Glenn roll his eyes and drop his head into his hands. The action only served to make the woman admonish him, "What? It's true."

Dale moved over to pat Glenn on the back and try to explain, "They used to get along well... As well as anyone can with them, when the Dixon's first got here. The brothers actually seemed to respect Glenn some, but about a week ago, a little over, Glenn confessed that he had a crush on Daryl. To Daryl's face. It didn't go over well."

"Daryl knows Glenn was the one leading everyone in," Shane said, keeping his eyes on the fire. "He'll probably blame him even if it wasn't his fault."

=Now=

"Where'd you learn that?" Daryl asked, voice soft, as his eyes focused on Glenn's face. T-Dog was watching the two, obviously nervous about Daryl talking to Glenn, and Rick could tell there was some history there. They'd said as much the night before, of course. It was different seeing it in the way T-Dog kept close and flicked his eyes between the two, like he was waiting for a shoe to drop. But Glenn was relaxed. Slightly confused by the question, but relaxed. His plan was a good one despite the fact that he was having to factor in four people instead of just the usual one. He didn't seem at all threatened or worried about Daryl.

"Zelda," was his answer and Daryl's brows scrunched together as his head tilted to the side. He clearly didn't know what that was - and Rick didn't either - but Glenn followed it up a second later to clarify, "Video game. Series, not just one game. Lots of uh... Well, not just Zelda. Other ones, too. But I was thinking of it like Wind Waker when you have to get past the enemies without them seeing or hearing you so you can get your sword back because you dropped it on the other side of the map and-"

"You think this is a game?" Daryl interrupted, tone still soft but edging into offended, and was met with an immediate panicked, "No! Of course not! Your lives aren't- I mean, I wouldn't play with them like that! I just- There's a lot of-"

Rick cut in with a raised hand and once he was sure he had their attention, he lowered it, "Spacial reasoning. Threat assessment. Risk assessment. That's what you learned." He couldn't help the smile as he looked at Glenn with new eyes. He'd known the kid was smart since they met, but at that moment, he was more impressed with someone than he'd been in a long time. The department, before things went down, had been talking about new studies showing that video games could help with those things, simulations that took the actual physical threat out of the equation. Adding them to the training schedule had been discussed, but there'd been a backlash against it. Most of the department thought it was bullshit some pencil pusher was trying to get started so they could sit on their ass all day.

He let out a chuckle for the joke only he got and stood up, "Alright then. Let's get this done. Glenn, lead us out." When he let his eyes drift back to Daryl, he realized the man hadn't stopped looking at Glenn. Like he, too, was making some reassessments of his own.

=Then=

"I don't think he's really going to kill me," Glenn protested as he crossed his arms over his chest and hugged himself. His own eyes were focused on the fire so he didn't have to look at the eyes on him. After a moment of quiet, he shifted, took a deep breath, and blurted out, "I think I should tell him about Merle."

A chorus of 'what?! No!' went around the circle before Rick cut in with a calm, "Why is that?"

Glenn felt his throat closing up and he had to swallow more than once to clear it. He couldn't tell them it was because Daryl thought of him as family. That they were married. Daryl probably  _would_ kill him for that. But he was also shit at lying and everyone knew it. They'd know if he was trying to make something up. He'd put himself on the spot and he didn't even have something to follow up with. Couldn't think of anything to say. He shrugged weakly and looked listlessly off to the side.

Someone else started to say something, but Rick cut them off before they could get more than a short sound out. His voice was like patience made into sound, like he would accept whatever answer he got without judgement, "Glenn? Why do you think you should tell him?"

He bit at his lip and rocked a little in his seat, mind working frantically. He had no answer that wouldn't bring more questions and the way he was acting now wasn't helping.

"Ah, hell, kid," Shane broke in. "I know you like the guy, but finding any excuse to talk to him isn't healthy. You can't keep doing this to yourself."

Glenn squeezed his eyes shut and stood up with a huff, stomping off, back to his tent. He ignored the people calling out to him to come back. They didn't understand. They couldn't. He'd just let them think what they wanted. Let them pity him out of ignorance. The same as he had since the first day the Dixon's rolled into camp.

=Now=

Daryl tested him. He probably thought he was being subtle about it. T-Dog probably wouldn't recognize it for what it was even after the fact. But Rick did. The cautious question about giving up the guns for Glenn, pointing out they were worth more than gold and that gold wouldn't protect his family. The way his eyes slid up and then away like he was scared to meet them and see Rick agreeing with him no matter what words tumbled out of his mouth. Daryl made sure they weren't going to leave Glenn while making it sound like it would be a better idea to do so.

But once he was assured the weren't going to just up and leave, Daryl followed Rick's lead like it was the most natural thing in the world to him. A word here and there of sarcasm and a disagreement with how it was being done, sure, but he was still reaching for the guns he was told to. Still keeping their hostage in check. Still taking point to watch for walkers on their way over. He didn't stop to voice his protests, he didn't try to hold things up. He was a part of the unit and he slid so cleanly into his role that Rick could almost believe they'd been working together for years.

Daryl was ready to kill on his word. Daryl was willing, but he got spooked by the old lady interrupting the meeting. She wasn't a part of what was going on and even if she was the wrong race - another thing Rick questioned was Daryl's supposed racism because at no point had he slung a slur at T-Dog or acted like the man was worth less for his skin color - Daryl didn't want to kill her. There were too many puzzle pieces missing to the whole thing but Rick knew without a doubt that between T-Dog and Daryl, Daryl wouldn't hesitate to do what Rick asked of him. He had the sick thought that if he told Daryl to kill the old woman, he would have done it. He wouldn't have liked it, but he would have done it. That realization scared him.

Was Daryl doing this for him, because they had an understanding? Was Glenn that important to him? T-Dog rick understood. T-Dog and Glenn, they were friends before everything went down from what he'd been told. Not close, but they knew each other. T-Dog had gotten Glenn out of Atlanta. But Daryl... Daryl barely knew him and could barely stand to be around him from what everyone, even Glenn, had been saying. Nothing made sense with this. 

He couldn't dwell on it during the rescue, but he did on the long walk back to camp. It was better than dwelling on the 'righteous vengeance', as Daryl put it, that Merle would be bringing if he stayed awake long enough to get there first.


	6. Fuel to the Fire

=Here=

"So... why'd you lick me?" Glenn finally got the courage to ask. Liquid courage, to be exact. He took his own swig and passed the last bottle of CDC wine back to Daryl. 

"Merle thought it'd be funny," Daryl shrugged in answer, eyes focusing on the popcorn ceiling of the room they'd shuffled off to so they didn't keep the others awake. "Thought it'd make you piss your pants or something. Wanted me to tell him if it did."

Glenn laughed and leaned his shoulder into Daryl's. Daryl turned his head to watch, laughing himself, "What?"

"I almost did," he admitted. "I thought you were going to kill me when you did that."

His secret husband - Glenn liked thinking of him like that, had called him that in his head the night before when he was just starting to edge past tipsy and into full blown drunk - pushed him away gently, in that playful way friends do. Despite everything, Glenn knew the man actually felt like he was part of the group now. Rick had even asked Daryl to keep an eye on Glenn because Glenn had gotten a little too morbid for the good of the group a half hour before.

Glenn knew this. He didn't care. It let him have some time in relative privacy with Daryl. The kind of time they hadn't exactly had the last couple days, even counting the one night of peace at the CDC. Daryl had made sure to get him too drunk to be coherent. With how the last few days had gone, he really needed this rest. All of them did. It just sucked that it was coming now. Without the Vatos.

Glenn's smile faded with those thoughts. All of the Vatos were dead and his group were sleeping in what was effectively their tombs. All the guys, all the old people. Execution style, Daryl had said. Some assholes had come in and slaughtered helpless elderly. And for what? What was the point of that?

"Hey. Hey!" Daryl snapped his fingers in front of Glenn's eyes. "You're doing that thing again where you get all buzzkill on us. Rick said you can't do that no more."

=There=

Daryl thought he was dead. He knew it. That fucking brother-in-law of his, too, probably. Only explanation for why he wasn't at the camp. Daryl wouldn't have left him if he thought he was alive. Merle was a pessimist most of the time, but one thing he could trust was that Daryl wouldn't abandon him.

'Sides, his bike was gone.

If that weren't a sign of mourning on Daryl's part, Merle didn't know what was.

The damn nigger had left him up there to die. Officer friendly was probably in on it. The others... they were crap, but they weren't a part of it. They didn't have the key and they didn't drop it down a goddamn drain. They didn't chain the fucking door shut so he'd die of exposure. That was T-Dog's fault. He'd be sure repay that kindness in full once he caught up with them.

"The CDC? You don't say..." Merle pulled the note off remains of the red car, fumbling with it to get it open and see whatever else was inside. It wasn't particularly easy to open the rest of the papers, but the map and the location were worth the effort. He knew it couldn't have been more than a day since the group left. Maybe, two. It was hard to tell with the burned walker pile. But it damn sure wasn't anywhere near a week gone by. He wasn't fool enough to believe they'd find anything there or that they'd stay. If the CDC had been safe, the people at the camp would have gone there instead of hanging out at the old quarry.

But he'd be able to pick up the trail. Especially if they left such a nicely framed note for this Morgan fellow. Whoever that poor son of a bitch was.

=Here=

"Sorry," Glenn muttered, leaning back and stretching his legs out. He set the empty bottle between them and twirled it idly by the stem. "I can't stop thinking about it. The people here. They were good people. They didn't deserve this."

Daryl adjusted his own seat so his legs were tucked up, knees to his chest. He started chewing at his thumb, "No one deserves any of this. 'Cept maybe Merle."

Glenn shook his head, wincing, "Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true," came the retort. "An' I don't mean the hand thing. Even he don't deserve that. I mean this." Daryl waved one hand into the air. "This kind of world. All messed up and no real idea where to go. Doing whatever jus' 'cause ya can. Chaos and shit."

Glenn continued to shake his head and twirl the bottle, "No. No one deserves this world. Not even Merle."

Daryl glanced over at Glenn, then at the door, before he lowered his voice, "Merle does. You remember that afternoon? After we woke up... you know... An' I called him?"

"Yeah. He was in jail."

"Yeah. I found him after all this shit went down. At the station he'd been locked up in. He was on the roof. Sun addled and boozed up and probably even high. Wasn't sure." Glenn looked up, watching his face as he talked. Watching the way his eyes softened. Became sad. Hurt. "He'd gotten himself a rifle and was sniping these survivors. People like Rick, T-Dog... Carol. People tryin' their hardest to do right by them and theirs, and even strangers jus' cause they were still alive. Merle was taking them out, one at a time. Convinced they were the military and after him for whatever he'd done. Wasn't right in the head."

=There= 

He needed supplies. Food, mostly. Weapons. He had knife, had found it in that kitchen he cauterized his stump on. Worth it's weight in gold, it was. He'd do better with a gun.

Merle laughed to himself, feeling like there had to be some irony in everything that'd happened.  He was driving back down that damn highway towards Atlanta. It had taken him a half a day to walk to the quarry and now he was driving back. The damn fool group had been too sentimental for their own good. They'd taken their supplies and some of the food from the tents of the dead. All the guns and other weapons they could find. But they'd left the rest. Tents, gear, canteens. A single car they hadn't stripped.

The car was a stroke of luck. They'd siphoned gas from everything and he hadn't expected the one he got moving to power on. It was one of those prissy-ass hybrids and he knew they didn't strip it because of the electric motor. It had probably confused the fuck out of them what to do with it. Even Merle had only intended to ride it in neutral down the mountain road, let gravity do it's thing since it was out of gas same as the rest, just to cut down on his travel time. But it got moving and all of sudden it was powering up, telling him the alternator was charging and the tank was empty. 

He let out one hell of a holler of joy and then laughed himself down the road to the highway. He knew it wouldn't be enough to get him to the CDC without gas, but it would be enough for him to limp along until he could find some gas to siphon.

"Tomorrow, little brother," he promised to himself, popping an AC/DC cd into the player. "I'll be there tomorrow and then you and me... and Glenn, no, I didn't forget your stupid twink... we'll be on our own. Together. The way it should have been after we found him. You let him talk us into staying too long. Should have left them a week later, high and dry and all the stuff we could carry in our truck."

=Here= 

Daryl's knees fell to either side and he pulled his feet in close, fingers picking at the rubber soles of his boots. Something idle to keep his hands busy. He was always doing something with his hands. When they weren't holding something, they were moving. His fingers rubbing together or a thumb being chewed on. It was so strange. Daryl could be so still when on the hunt, when watching out for walkers, but when he had the time to relax, he couldn't keep still.

"I managed to find him some antibiotics day or so after, when his head was clear," Daryl continued, eyes drifting to the open door every now and then. His head cocked as he listened for the sound of someone coming to get one of them. "He was sick enough he needed 'em. Counted on me to get 'em. An' I did. Then we headed to this bar. Place his biker gang called home, ya know? Told me it'd be safe."

When Daryl fell silent again, Glenn prompted him to continue, "It wasn't, was it?"

Daryl's head shook, the skin around his eyes tightening before he swiped the back of a hand across them and sniffed loudly. He blinked and forced his eyes open wide. Glenn recognized it for what it was but said nothing. Daryl didn't like to cry openly. He just pretended there was something in his eyes and moved on with things.

"Nope. Merle told me he had a surprise there for me. An' he did. Jus' wasn't the one he insisted it was." He turned and hefted his crossbow, smiling at it. "He'd kept this there after he ran off with it." The crossbow was settled into his lap and he started checking it. Glenn watched, trying to learn something about it as he listened. The crossbow wasn't just cool, it was important to Daryl. "But he didn't take us there for that or for safety in numbers. He took us there because they had his stash. All he cared about was how fast he could high."

=There= 

The CDC had been bombed. That wasn't a surprise to Merle.

The surprise was that it had happened the day before. That same morning, maybe. At best. The fires were still burning. They weren't fresh, now, an hour or so before sunset, but they were still burning. That was the only thing he was sure of. Walkers were all over the place and he couldn't get close without risking his life in a way he wasn't ready to.

"Least ways you weren't here when it happened," he muttered, leaning back in his seat as he watched the building. He was far enough away and sitting still enough, that what walkers did pass his car didn't notice him. He was as dead to them as they were to each other. Merle's spot was a good one. He had a clear view of the wreckage and the drive up. The streets that connected it to the rest of the city. The only cars there were abandoned military transports. The RV, the jeep, Daryl's truck... none of them were parked anywhere. He knew Daryl was still alive from that alone.

But he couldn't check for any notes to Morgan with things the way they were. He didn't know where they'd headed. He'd either have to make a guess or go into that field of walkers and hope he got out alive. And, if he was being entirely honest, he was more than a little curious as to why the building was just now a burning wreckage. 

=Here=

"Sorry," Glenn said after a long silence had settled in and he couldn't stand it any more. 

"Don't be," Daryl answered, still shaking his head. His crossbow was perfectly fine and he set it aside, then rubbed his hands down his thighs. His fingers itched to be doing something. "Jus... I don't want Merle to die. I'm not saying that I do. And I don't think he will. Not easily. Hand or no hand. But... My brother isn't a good man. This is the kind of world he deserves. Violent. Unsure. Only one soul left to mourn him. A soul that can't even know if he should." He wiped at his eyes again, "Sorry. Just... I really thought he'd make it back ta camp. I really thought he took our truck..."

Glenn stopped twirling the bottle and reached over to take one of those nervous hands in his. He did it slowly, gave Daryl time to pull away as he threaded their fingers and squeezed, "He has two souls to mourn him."

Daryl's eyes focused on their hands for a long time. His breathing seemed more labored as he did. But he didn't pull away from Glenn. Not right away. Not until there was the heavy sound of footsteps in the hall an hour later when Rick went to take over watch from T-Dog.

=There=

He hated this. Whatever had gone down at the CDC had forced him off Daryl's trail. He couldn't go in for fear of the fucking dead bastards and he had no way of tracking a bunch of cars on fucking streets. For all he knew, they'd never actually made it to the CDC. He didn't know the exact route they'd taken. The map marked the quarry and the CDC, it didn't tell him how they got there. If they got there.

What if they were still driving to it? Taking some round-about way because of that RV of theirs?

Merle pulled the map out and opened it up. He wasn't familiar with most of the roads around Atlanta, but a safe bet was they'd take something that _wouldn't_ have a high chance of being blocked.

"Well, I know ya'll didn't take this one." Merle held the map down with the stump of his right hand and colored over the route he'd taken to eliminate it from his choices. "That means... you probably took this one... or this one... others are a little too well used for a group like yours. Not enough space to turn that camper of yours around."

He leaned back in his seat and rubbed at the skin just beneath his bottom lip, "Well, I'll tell you what, Officer Friendly. I'll give you two days to make it here with that clunker. If you aren't here by then, maybe the geeks'll be thinned out enough to search for your note to your dear ol' Morgan. Might not be seeing you as soon as I'd like, but soon enough."

=Here=

T-Dog joined Glenn and Daryl in their little room so he wouldn't wake up the others with the opening and closing of doors. He found them leaning up against each other, shoulder to shoulder. Glenn was out and the empty wine bottle was laying haphazardly between his outstretched legs. The hand nearest to Daryl rested over the top, like he'd fallen asleep right after finishing it. Daryl sat with his legs stretched in front of him as well, but they were crossed at the ankles and he was chewing on one of his thumbs. He looked up as T entered, eyebrows raising in quiet greeting before he let his eyes drop back to stare off into nothing.

"Sounds like it was quiet," the redneck murmured, obviously trying not to rouse Glenn. T-Dog nodded and went to make himself comfortable across the room, but Daryl snapped his fingers at him and then waved him closer. "Not over there. There's a draft. You'll make yourself sick."

T stayed where he was, half sitting and half standing as he tried to process that. After a moment, he asked, "That why you two are over there?"

Daryl shook his head and then tilted it to his other side and pointed with his free hand. The other was still up near his mouth. "Pulled some cardboard and sheets out. Cardboard ain't that comfortable, but it's better than tile. An' the sheets make as good a blanket as any. You can use 'em if you want."

He stared a moment more before getting up and moving to the pile Daryl'd pointed at. He wasn't sure where this wave of common decency was coming from, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. It was something T-Dog had noticed after the attack and even more after they'd gotten to the CDC. Back at camp, in the hours after the attack, he'd thought maybe Daryl would rail on him about it all. Except Daryl didn't. He immediately pitched in to move bodies and make sure no one would rise as one of _them._  He stepped up to help T-Dog without him having to ask. Sure, Daryl had made a few declarations how the attack was karma for leaving Merle, but that was the extent of it. Nothing directed at any one person. Blame laid all around and no hesitation to work along side a black man the way Merle had vocally protested.

He put more thought into it and it struck him all of a sudden that Daryl had never actually broken out the n-word the way Merle did. And Daryl had never treated him - or Jacqui -  with the disdain Merle had. Hell, the two had never really talked beyond T questioning the random odd story Daryl would break out. But even then, he'd felt comfortable enough with him to do it. Something he had never been with Merle. The only person T-Dog could easily remember Daryl breaking a slur out for was... Glenn. And only when Glenn was able to hear it.

He shifted where he lay, less to get comfortable and more so he could take another look at Daryl and Glenn. The two leaning up against each other like they were old friends. Like Daryl had never had any issue with Glenn crushing on him. He'd been that way the night before, at the CDC, when he'd focused on getting Glenn drunk to see 'how red his face could get'. Everyone had laughed, thinking he was already shiftfaced drunk by then.

Taking a chance, he got Daryl's attention and asked softly, "So you and Glenn... you two okay now? No hard feelings?"

Daryl raised an eyebrow and met his eyes, then dropped them away almost immediately before giving a single shoulder shrug. Like it had never been a big deal. It was the only answer T-Dog got before he surrendered to sleep.


	7. A Moment of Peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Child Death. This chapter includes the death of Andre, Michonne's son.

=There=

He waited two days like he said he would. He kept his promise. And it was hard. He was never a patient man, much as he might say he was to others.

But Rick and T-Dog and that stupid RV didn't show. They didn't show. Daryl wasn't where he was supposed to be. Merle felt betrayed all over again. First dear old Officer Friendly let Daryl believe he was dead, and then he couldn't even keep his promise to that Morgan bastard.

"This whole world can go to hell," he growled to himself. Then he was slamming his fist on the car horn and screaming. "YOU HEAR ME? THIS WHOLE WORLD CAN GO TO HELL!"

Walkers turned in their tracks to start toward the noise. Merle was already putting the car in drive and ramming his foot on the gas. Three of the dead went up over the hood as he swerved down the street. He made a game of it. Pedestrians: ten points.

He didn't pay attention to where he was driving. It didn't matter. Daryl could be anywhere after two days of travel. He could be in the middle of downtown Atlanta or on the other side of the state. One direction was as good as any other. His chances of finding Daryl were the same regardless of where he drove.

So he just drove. Until there weren't any walkers to hit. Until he was out of gas and the car couldn't keep going even on the electric motor. Until he was stuck on the sidewalk of some street in some town in the middle of no where. At that point he figured he was going to die. His arm was still bleeding from the stump - a lazy bleed but a bleed none the less - and he didn't have anything to keep pressure on it, or clean bandages. He had no painkillers. He was almost out of water.

He was going to die.

Alone.

Trapped in a car.

At least he wouldn't be up and walking around after he finally croaked, right? Maybe it was better that way.

=Here=

"Huntin' in the dark's no good," Daryl's voice came out gruffer than he liked. He was trying to keep it soft, like he was talking to a stray a little too feral to trust any human that came along. He didn't like that he'd had to give up the trail because of nightfall. He didn't like that he had to look at that poor woman and see her break down. But he did try to sound as sorry as he felt. He knew he had issues talking to others properly, so he tried real, real hard to come across like he wasn't being flippant. "We'd just be trippin over ourselves. More people getin' lost."

Carol shook her head, her own words seizing up in her throat, "But she's twelve. She can't be out there on her own." Lori was at her side at that point, hands on her upper arms. Her touch was gentle. She wasn't speaking. She was just trying to be there for the woman. But Carol didn't seem to notice as her wide eyes sought out Rick again, "You didn't find anything?"

Daryl's shoulders tensed up as he saw Rick swallow hard. His eyes blinked far too fast and it was so easy to read how much Rick blamed himself. He was trying to be strong for the woman in front of him, trying to keep her calm, "I now this is hard, but I'm asking you not to panic. We know she was out there."

"And we tracked her for a while," Daryl piped up, voice still soft. He was surprised at how hopeful he sounded about it. To the others, who hadn't known him long or talked to him much, it might not sound that strange. But it made him feel self-conscious and his hands tightened on his crossbow's carry strap. 

"We have to make this an organized effort." Rick said, attempting to bring the focus back to himself as he looked to everyone. "Daryl knows the woods better than anybody. I've asked him to oversee this."

Unfortunately, Carol had kept her attention on Daryl and her eyes had spotted the dark patch on his knee. She pointed to him, "Is- is that blood?"

=There=

"Hey! Eater! Can you hear me?" the voice of some punk ass kid filtered through the glass and Merle rolled his eyes to squint at him. He just laughed and tapped some more, "Ah yeah. You're an ugly fucker. But you're trapped in there and I'm out here. Can't eat me, fucker."

Another voice came, female. Maybe. "Knock it off, Greg. Just open the door and kill it. We don't need you riling them up."

"Ah come on. It can't get me. Besides, it's pretty dumb," Greg replied, leaning in and knocking again, "I know you see me. Bet you'd like to rip my face off, though, don't you?"

Merle's eyes tightened a little more before he raised his left hand and pressed his fist against the glass. He made sure the kid was watching, let him think he was some walker trying to paw at the glass. Then he slowly, very slowly, turned his fist around so the back of his hand was there and, finally, he raised his middle finger before kissing the air as the kid's eyes locked on his.

"OH SHIT! HE'S STILL ALIVE!"

Never had those words sounded so satisfying. Merle let his hand drop and laughed as the two opened the door to pull him out and check for bites.

=Here=

Rick put his hands up and leaned forward, cautious and ready to jump in front of her if she rushed forward in panic. His jaw worked for a moment or two and then he said, very calmly, "We took down a walker."

It didn't help, of course. Carol was too focused on what that could mean. Her head swung slowly from one side to the other as her voice broke over her words, "A walker. Oh my god."

"There was no sign it was ever anywhere near Sophia," Rick was quick to follow up with. And Daryl sincerely hoped that would sooth the woman.

But then Andrea spoke up, leaning forward from the back of the group to look between Rick and Daryl, "How can you know that?"

Rick swallowed and Daryl wondered how he was going to put it. Only Rick didn't say anything. He looked over at Daryl. He deferred to him. Daryl stood quiet for a couple moments, not sure how to handle the expectation in those eyes. He couldn't hold the stare and he looked down before looking back up at Carol and shuffling his feet. When he spoke, he really hoped his voice was as gentle as he was trying for it to be. As reassuring as Ricks. "We cut the sonabitch open. Made sure."

=There=

Merle leered at the the black woman driving the car while Greg did his best to tend to the bloody stump. She kept glancing back at him in the rearview, so he knew she could feel his eyes on her. Not that he really wanted to stick his dick in some nigger bitch, but she wasn't that bad to look at. A welcome change from the frigid dykes that hung around the old quarry camp.

"I think the Nubian Queen likes me," he drawled, tongue darting out to lick his lips as he turned to look at Greg. "She keeps staring at me."

Greg gave him a look that clearly said he thought Merle was crazy and shook his head.

"You got to learn to read the signs, boy," Merle smiled, his voice that over-sweet tone he knew made people nervous when it came from a man like him. World ending didn't change nothing. He lightly slapped Greg's shoulder with his left hand in a friendly manner. "Them icy eyes are just her way of hiding how much she'd like to take a ride on this dick. But don't you worry none." He turned patted the man's arm. "I ain't into that sort of cross-contamination. If she tries ta jump me, I can handle myself."

The woman rolled her eyes and didn't even try to hide the look of utter disgust and momentary 'gag' as she turned off the state road and onto what was little more than a dirt path. He had a feeling they were getting close to where ever they were going.

=Here= 

When Rick throws open the doors to the church it looks for a second like there were genuine, god-fearing people inside.

But then they turned around.

The walkers started to rise and Rick, Shane, and Daryl moved in concert. In silence. They already knew what they needed to do and bullets couldn't be wasted. Shane pulled his own knife out of the sheath on his back while Rick holstered his gun and reached back for the machete Lori was already handing him. They'd never worked like this before, but there was an understanding that the whole group seemed to get.

Daryl waited until Rick and Shane were moving forward to turn and take the hooked machete from Glenn's hand. He hefted it and gave it an appraising look over even as he started to move around the side. He wasn't even looking when he held his crossbow out for Glenn to take. He didn't seem to think about it, didn't hesitate, just handed it over. Glenn realized it was the first time he'd ever seen Daryl pass his crossbow to someone instead of throwing it over his shoulder by the strap. He trusted Glenn.

Glenn watched the three take out their targets in the same silence that the rest of the group did. He held the crossbow at the ready in case one of the walkers didn't go down properly. He didn't really think it would be a problem, but caution dictated he do so. Most of his focus, however, was on Daryl.

The walker Daryl goes after was the one furthest to the right side of the building. It was once a woman and was still wearing a lace veil over it's face. Shane has already moved past it to get to the walker at the very front of the church and though it sees him, it had trouble deciding who it wanted to go after. Shane was in front, but it could see Daryl.

Daryl used that confusion to get up close. He made a noise with his lips as he got in right behind it and it whipped it's head around just in time for him to slice it across the face. Glenn saw the disturbed look on Daryl's face as he backed up. His arms were up and he acted like someone who had just accidentally upended a priceless Ming Vase. Or there was acid on the floor that he had to get away from. In that moment he looked nothing like the tough, angry redneck Glenn had first met. He looked everything like a scared child who felt like he'd broken something and had no way of fixing it. Of the three, he was the only one that didn't keep going once the walker was down. One slice, deep enough to get the brain, and it was on the floor. Shane and Rick both kept hacking away at their targets to make sure they stayed down. Or to get some anger out. 

After they stopped, there was a heavy silence broken only by their labored breathing. Glenn could tell that all of them feel a little sick, but then Rick was yelling "SOPHIA" as loud as he could and Daryl was walking up the isle to the railing. He looked up at the cross with the figure of Christ hanging off and Glenn could just barely hear him mutter, "Yo JC, you taking requests?" before turning away.

No one really expected an answer. But he met Daryl's eyes and gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

=There=

Something was wrong when they pulled up to the parking area. Even not knowing the grounds, he could tell by the way the woman - Michonne, Greg had told him at least five times in the last half hour - tensed up. Her eyes had blown wide from what he could see in the rearview and he imagined her overly-large nose flaring. She was keyed up, no question.

The whole place had an eerie silence. The car doors being shut didn't factor into that. Much. It was an old car, very little sound proofing. There should have been the sound of something beyond the door. 

"No one's on watch," she said, voice tight as she shut the engine off and reached for the katana she'd set on the passenger seat.

Greg checked his gun and pulled a second, smaller pistol out. Checked it as well. "The gate's open, too. I can just see it from here."

"Well, shit," Merle piped up, holding his good hand out, "if someone's getting dead in there, I don't want them to get me dead out here. Give me something to defend myself with."

Michonne glanced back at Merle, then at Greg. Her mouth was a line of worry and there was something more than just panic in the way her chest heaved as she sucked in a breath. After a second's hesitation, she nodded at her run partner. Greg passed the pistol over, then popped the door open. After Merle was out, the three moved in a quick, quiet jog from the car to the gate. It didn't look broken, just open. Like someone had forgotten to latch it. Beyond the gate two walkers sat crouched down over the body of some dumb fool, ripping into it quietly. 

There was a soft sob from Michonne and silence on her part was forgotten. She ran up screaming and split two skulls in half before either of the walkers could rise. Another scream ripped out of her as a good two dozen more walkers shambled out from between and behind the buildings.

"No sense waiting here, buddy boy, we got some ugly sons of bitches to kill," Merle laughed and jogged in, grinning like a fool as he aimed the pistol and started shooting. Greg followed, tears in his eyes.

Greg lasted long enough for Merle to run out of bullets and use the butt of the pistol to smash in three skulls. But he got overwhelmed faster than Merle did. He wasn't good in close quarters and six of the bastards tore him down. 

"His own damn fault," Merle muttered to himself, more angry at himself than the kid. He didn't know him, he wasn't going to mourn him, but he didn't like someone getting dragged down like that when he was the one backing them up. It was easier to blame the dead.

He used the distraction the fresh kill provided to scrounge for a better weapon. One of the already torn apart former residents had managed to snag a crowbar from somewhere. It wasn't perfect, but it'd do in a pinch. Merle hefted it and laughed, giving it a good practice swing into the back of a feasting walker's head, "Yessir, you'll do nicely. Now... who wants some of this?"

=Here=

Daryl took a deep breath, "There's nothing we can do about it, anyway. Can't run around these woods chasing echoes."

"So what do we do?" Lori asked, the worry on her face not going away.

"Same as we been." He knew the gunshot was ominous, but Rick and Shane had trusted him to be in charge of leading the others back. He wouldn't betray that trust. And they really couldn't do a lot about it. So it wasn't like he was lying. He turned to go, "Beat the bush for Sophia. Work our why back to the highway."

Andrea gave a half-smile that she obviously didn't feel to Lori, "I'm sure they'll hook up with us back at the RV."

That seemed to be enough to settle it because Lori started walking, trailing him and Glenn. But then Andrea had to go and start talking again. When he looked back at her voice, she was talking to Carol. Trying to comfort her. Daryl didn't stop her at first. He wanted to go up and give Carol comfort, too. But he didn't really know how. That was something women did. Something Merle would have beat his ass over if he though Daryl was getting soft. 

He was going to ignore it entirely, but then Carol had to talk about hoping and praying. And Andrea had to say they were all doing the same. "For what it's worth."

"I'll tell you what it's worth," Daryl broken in, fed up with that bullshit. He was close to them by then, having walked over so he could be sure to meet their eyes as he shook his head. "Not a damn thing." It wasn't kind and he knew it. Carol's eyes widened and she looked like he had just stabbed her in the heart. He probably had. But he didn't let up, "It's a waste of time, all this hoping and praying."

He waited half a second, letting that sink in before he leaned in as far as he dared, his eyes locked with Carol's, "We're going to locate that little girl. And she's going to be just fine." Then Daryl stepped back, gaze swinging from Andrea, to Carol, and back again. He shook his head and turned to head off again, trying not to let himself get angry over the whole exchange. "Am I the only one Zen around here? Good lord."

He was pleased to realize that as soon as he moved off, Glenn was moving as well. Not quite even with him, but a step behind and to the side wasn't terrible. Of the small group Daryl was being trusted with, Glenn was the only one doing what he was asked and not holding everyone up with stupid drama and pointless worrying. Like a quiet pillar of support. It was the only good thing about the whole affair.

=There=

He found her in one of the buildings. The rest of the walkers in the camp were dead and those they'd killed, he'd made sure they wouldn't rise a second time. After Greg went down and her screams of rage stopped, he'd honestly expected he'd have to take care of business with her, too. But she wasn't dead. She was just quiet. Sitting with a few bodies. Two of them propped up against the wall opposite her and one laid along her side so she could hold it's hand.

Merle was ready to comment about it, mock her sentimentality over whichever dead spear chucker she'd attached herself to when he realized something about that last body. The one who's hand she was holding. It wasn't big enough to be a man. It looked maybe as tall as her legs were long, but it had both legs and arms. Or the bones for 'em. And it wasn't out of proportion like one of those midget fuckers. Whatever words he'd had died in his throat. 

That was the body of a child. Even he wasn't cold enough to mock that.

He swallowed some bile and went to wipe his mouth with the back of his right hand. It wasn't there, of course, and he ended up starting at it stupidly before dropping it and dealing with his mouth feeling a little dirtier than he liked.

Merle took stock of the room. The child wouldn't be getting back up. Half it's head was missing and there weren't no coming back from that. The other walkers, the ones that had been dining on the kid, they were down. But the two bodies across from her, the ones she was watching with cold eyes, they were still moving. They were sill alive.

He figured if she couldn't do it - and after finding a kid, probably her kid, like that, he couldn't really blame her - then he would. He moved over, flipping the crowbar in his hand so he could shove it through their eyes and make it a fast kill.

"No." she spoke and he turned to tell her off. But what he saw in her eyes had him shutting his mouth and backing down. The singular focus of hate she was radiating was the most disturbing thing he'd ever seen and she didn't even look at him. She just kept staring at the two.

"Let them turn."


	8. Life and Death

=Now=

 "So you and Maggie, huh?" Daryl asked quietly, eyes on the pillow his head rested on. It was the same bed Carl had been in and the chair Rick had kept vigil from was still there. This time it was Glenn that watched the bed's occupant with concern. Somewhere in his head he knew he shouldn't have been surprised by that. But he was. Someone other than Merle caring was weird.

Glenn looked down at his lap, at his hands, where his worried his fingers against each other. After a moment he shrugged, "Sort of."

"Sort of?" Daryl's eyes flicked to Glenn's face before going back to the pillow. It was hard to look at him. Physically because of the angle. Emotionally because... well, nothing he wanted to think to hard about. "Didn't seem so 'sort of' yesterday mornin' when you were trying to yammer my ear off."

"Yeah. Sorry," his husband answered contritely. "You were right. I shouldn't have-"

"Shut up," Daryl sighed and closed his eyes. Silence filled the room and he could almost feel the guilt rolling off Glenn. It made him uncomfortable. He shifted the comforter so it sat better on his shoulder, but it did little to help. Eventually he let out a sigh and said softly, "Sorry I yelled at you. That was wrong of me."

Glenn's head shot up. He could see it in his peripheral. Just like he could see the kid's mouth opening like he was going to refute his words. Daryl didn't let him.

"You have no business bein' out in them woods. You don't know what you're doing. No reason for you to go looking for anyone when all you'd be doin' is mucking up the trail same as you did the day she got lost." The words sounded harsher than he intended them. But they kept Glenn quiet long enough for him to try and explain. "I was jus' mad and I took it out on you. Weren't right of me. You been doing all you know to do. Helpin' out with the camp an' doin' that run. Can't fault you for that."

He fell silent and Glenn didn't answer right away. He didn't know how to apologize better than he had. He really hadn't been mad at Glenn. It had been Shane, mostly, that he was mad at.

"I still shouldn't have bothered you with it," Glenn finally said, tone as equally soft. "Asking you for advice like that... It could have waited."

Daryl snorted. That he did agree with.

"Could we... talk about it now?"

=Then=

It was a couple hours after sunrise when they gathered to lay Otis to rest. His body wasn't there, of course, but it was the thought that mattered to everyone.

' _We don't burn our people! We bury them_.' Glenn had yelled at him barely a week before. Hell, had it even been a week? Everything had happened so fast since the walker attack at the quarry.

Glenn had stared at him, stared him down. He'd stood there, shoulders shaking with a fire in his eyes Daryl hadn't known him capable of. Daryl wasn't sure he could be capable of that much conviction. Daryl had just gone with it because how could he fight that? Sure, he'd shouted at them that it was karma, but he had gone with T-Dog to drag the body to the right pile.

He'd later helped move bodies up to the holes and helped turn them into graves. He'd done that by choice. He'd participated without being asked. Without Glenn telling him to help or Rick looking at him for it. He'd done it on his own.

And now he was at Otis' funeral. Not because he had to be, but because he'd chosen to be. He didn't even care about the guy. And yet, he was still there.

He was a part of it.

=Now=

Daryl lifted his eyes again to see Glenn looking at him. Unsure like he usually was, but this time looking to him for advice and guidance. Something that had been reserved for Dale or T-Dog or Rick. No one had looked at him like that before. Like what Daryl had to say or what he knew mattered,  _really_  mattered, to them. Daryl let his eyes drop and gave a small shrug, "Guess so. Got nothin' better to do."

Glenn continued to stare at him for a few moments, then exhaled in a long, slow breath. "Okay. So... two days ago-"

"When you got your dumb ass dropped down the well?" Daryl muttered, side-eying the kid.

Glenn rolled his eyes like this was a conversation he'd already had, "Yeah. When I got my dumb ass dropped down the well. Maggie and I went into town, about a mile down the road. We hit the pharmacy and I was getting something for Lori-"

"The pregnancy test?"

His husband froze, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

=Then=

Daryl's fingers curled into the armholes of his vest ( _Merle's vest_ ) so he wasn't quite hugging himself. He did it to keep his hands still. He knew he fidgeted when he was nervous, bit at his thumbs. And he knew the others had started to pick up on that. He didn't want his tells giving him away as the final stones were laid on the memorial. No one needed to know that the funeral sat uneasy with him. Or why.

If the rest of them wanted to pretend not to know what Shane was, he saw no reason to bring it to their attention. The group was broken enough as it was with Sophia still missing and Rick and Shane's power plays going on. No reason to fracture it further. It was enough that he knew the score.

The pistol Shane was toting around in the back of his pants wasn't one he'd had before leaving with Otis. Easy enough to figure out what really happened when Shane's voice hitched and he couldn't quite finish his lie when looking directly at Patricia's face. The others were being willfully blind to that, pretending it was genuine sorrow when Shane had only ever shown remorse for hurting Lori or Carl or (sometimes) Rick. Well, maybe not all of them. But Rick and Lori certainly were. Not that Daryl was surprised. The ignorance benefited them. Kept their son alive.

It was a matter of protecting their family. Daryl understood that. He could respect that. How Shane fit into it wasn't his problem unless or until Shane's obsession put Glenn in danger. Because Glenn was the only family he had left.

And Carol. 'Cause Carol had been hurt enough as it was.

And T-Dog. 'Cause T wasn't so bad.

Maybe Andrea. She'd lost her sister and had to put her down.

Shit, he was making excuses now for all of them, wasn't he? No good could come of that. Keep Shane at arms length, then. Don't let no one know he cared. That would have to be a good enough compromise.

=Now= 

Daryl snorted and shifted the covers again, still not that comfortable, stuck on his side the way he was, "She's not that good about destroying evidence. Left the box out in the field near this stump. She's the only one it could be, right? Since she was fucking Shane and then Rick." With his husband just continuing to stare at him, burning a hole into head with his gaze, Daryl drummed his fingers nervously on the mattress. He felt like he'd just been caught trying to steal his daddy's liquor. Could almost imagine a belt being pulled and snapped between two hands. He muttered, "Already burned it. Won't tell no one," in an attempt to reestablish trust that hadn't actually been broken.

"Uh... r-right," Glenn stammered. He stood up suddenly, head down, and went to the door. He shut it and locked it with a too-loud click and Daryl's heart started pounding in his chest. His whole body tensed and he felt himself flinch away as the weight of Glenn's body settled on the bed next to him. He knew it was stupid to think Glenn capable of that, but he was injured, stuck in bed. The door was locked. Sounds would be muffled.  _He could get away with it._

But Glenn didn't do anything except sit there. He sat there for a long time, not even paying attention to how stiff Daryl was or how ragged his breathing sounded. He just sat there.

"Yeah. So," Glenn started again, sighing, and Daryl felt the mattress shift again as Glenn turned and crawled over his legs to the more-open side of the bed. He laid down on his stomach, head on his arms, parallel to Daryl. He offered a self-depreciating smile, "That. Anyway, Lori asked me not to tell anyone and Maggie came up behind me just as I found it. I kind of panicked. I didn't want her seeing what I was actually holding so I shoved it in my bag. Then I picked up whatever was next to me. It was some condoms. I mean, I thought maybe it would be tampons or something. Since I was in the feminine hygiene section. I have four sisters and a mom, I've handled more of those than I've handled my own laundry."

When Daryl cringed at that picture and made a face, Glenn laughed. He laughed and it was probably the best sound Daryl had heard since- since the CDC and Glenn and him had laughed their way through however many bottles of alcohol. It was an infectious laugh. One that Daryl allowed himself to join in on, safe as he was now. Behind a locked door where no one could see him let the walls down. Glenn hadn't closed and locked it to hurt him. He'd done it to give him sanctuary. A place to relax. When had he learned Daryl that well?

=Then= 

Daryl didn't head out right away. He wanted to, but he couldn't. He needed to set his own tent up some place and it wasn't going to be close to the rest of them. He didn't need them having an easy time of nosing around his stuff.

Course setting up his tent and parking his bike out near the woodpile also didn't take that long. But it meant he had to march back the other way to get himself headed back to the woods Sophia had gotten lost in. He chose to cut across the yard near the house, away from the majority of the group.

Except that Rick seemed to be waiting for him on the steps. Or maybe he was waiting for someone else and just taking the opportunity as it rose. Either way Rick stood up and called out to him. Daryl respected Rick enough to slow down and wait for whatever it was Rick had to say.

Didn't mean he wasn't irritated when all it seemed to be was a stupid, "You okay on your own?"

"Better on my own, " he called back and started off again, shaking his head. The Sheriff was too much of a bleeding heart for his own good. "Don't worry, I'll be back 'fore dark."

"Hey!" Rick barked, stopping him in his tracks. Again. Daryl rolled his eyes, but turned to listen. Rick started forward a couple steps, looking at him with uncertainty while he worried away at his hat. "We got a base. We can get this search properly organized now."

"You got a point?" Daryl asked back, taking a couple steps of his own without actually closing the distance. Just getting far enough neither of them had to shout anymore. "Or just chattin?"

"My point," Rick said, pausing a moment and meeting his eyes. "It lets you off the hook. You don't owe us anything."

 _What a load of shit_.

"My other plans fell through." Daryl turned around and jogged off, not hiding his disgust at the suggestion he was doing this out of any sense of owing them something. He didn't owe them anything. A little girl was lost in the woods. He wasn't fucking heartless.

=Now= 

Glenn's laughter trailed away, but he was nodding, "Yeah... anyway... so, I was holding the condoms, right? And she gave me this look like she was... I don't know. Both impressed and not at the same time? She asked me if I had a girlfriend she didn't know about. Of course I said no."

"You didn't tell her about us, did you?" Daryl asked before he could stop himself.

Glenn met the worry in his eyes with a gentle look and shook his head, "No. I'm not a good liar, but I've gotten pretty good at semantics. She asked if I had a girlfriend, not a husband. I didn't have to lie to tell her no. She didn't really give me a chance to let that slip, either. She went right to assuming I wanted to have sex with her and thought I could."

"Did you?" Daryl was more interested in the answer than he should have been. He chalked it up to never having any close friends to talk women with. He'd never been comfortable talking to Merle about that sort of thing. And his family had pretty much ruined any chances of him having long-term friends.

Glenn snorted and shook his head slowly, "Well, yeah. I mean... sure. But I didn't really think I'd have a chance at it. Not the way she was asking. And... You know, that's the first time I've had sex in more than a year. And I don't know how I managed to be someone she'd be interested in enough for it. Slim pickings or not."

Daryl lowered his covers just enough to reach out and give Glenn a light slap on the shoulder, "Don't you talk like that. You're a Dixon. Dixon men get all the pussy they want." He was parroting Merle, but he didn't really know what else to say. What other encouragement to give. Glenn didn't think that well of himself and it bothered Daryl. To see his own self-confidence mirrored so keenly.

But Glenn gave him a funny look and Daryl had to figure out a way to downplay his outburst. He threw on a mostly real grin and joked, "'Sides, I married you. You gonna tell me I got bad taste in men?"

Glenn laughed outright and buried his face in one of the pillows, "No. I'm never going to tell you that. You'd shoot me with your crossbow."

"Sure as hell would," Daryl agreed, laughing too hard himself and cringing as the stitches were pulled from his muscles contracting. "Maybe I should shoot you. Right where I got myself."

"What? So we'd have matching scars?" Glenn propped himself up on his elbows, grinning ear to ear, "You can't get me a proper ring so you want to injure me?"

"It'd be shaped like a ring."

"Round is not a ring!"

=Then= 

Daryl hadn't really intended to join them at the campfire. But Carol had called him over, smiling at him like he was the best man in the world. The others had lifted their heads to look at him, too. All of them with strangely expectant looks on their faces. It was surreal to see them like that. Like he mattered to them.

Daryl had stopped in his tracks and hesitated for a second before shrugging and turning. He let his feet carry him to the fire and the spot on the log next to Glenn. The other end had T-Dog. T gave him a cautious look, eyes moving between him and Glenn. Still trying to figure out what was going on there.

Well, Daryl wasn't going to help him with that. He set his crossbow down where he could grab it if he needed to and accepted a bowl from Carol. Didn't look at anyone. Just ate in silence while the conversations drifted on around him. At least until the conversation was directed his way.

"Huh?" he looked up, blinking and not sure he'd heard right.

Carol smiled at him, "I said, you should move your tent closer in. So you don't have as far to walk for breakfast in the morning."

"I can get m'own breakfast," he muttered. Glenn not-so-subtly elbowed him in the side. He could feel the rest of the group tense up at that. He did his best to ignore it as he cast a glare to his husband.

Glenn didn't meet his eyes. He tried to hide the smile that was pulling at his lips. He'd never been so bold about teasing Daryl before and Daryl didn't know what to make of it. He couldn't exactly toss him on his ass over it. He'd get his own ass kicked and Glenn would probably avoid him for life. The bastard had him like an animal in a snare.

"You should," Glenn said to break the tense silence as he poked the fire with a stick and there was a shift in the group's attention. Like they were seeing Glenn with new eyes. The only time he talked back to Daryl was when he was stressed to the point of anger and desperation. He didn't just assert himself like that. To anyone.

Except that this wasn't really him asserting himself. This was him trying to politely plead with Daryl. The way he had with Merle when others couldn't hear. The only difference was that he felt safe enough to do it openly. Daryl snorted and went back to his meal. He didn't want to play the games his brother had. He didn't have the time or care.

Glenn turned his head and leaned over so their legs and shoulders touched. It came so slowly that Daryl didn't have to fight back his natural reaction to pull away violently. He didn't feel threatened by the touch. He didn't flinch. The realization made him still and suddenly he forgot that there were other people around.

"Please? It'd be safer," Glenn pressed, looking up at him from under his stupid hat and then chewed at his lip.

Daryl turned his head away so he didn't have to see him like that. His voice was quiet, unsure, as off-center as he'd been caught, "'s safe enough."

Glenn wasn't letting it go. "But you're far enough out that if a walker finds you, we might not be able to hear you call for help."

"We found a walker in one of the wells today," Carol's voice joined in and Daryl tensed. Glenn's presence against him was suddenly suffocating, but he couldn't find the strength to push him away. He couldn't move. "It was closer than your tent is. It was in there for a while, but it still got that far without anyone seeing it."

Glenn could tell how stiff he was, how coiled tightly his muscles were. He had to, pressed against him as he was. After a pause, Glenn pulled away, leaning back barely an inch so they weren't touching anymore. He shrugged and dug his stick into the fire again, "If not to the camp, then at least inside the cleared ground? So there's an easy line of sight?"

Daryl gulped and set his bowl down, finally able to move. He stood up, grabbing his bow as he went, and headed off to his tent. He could feel the people behind him relax finally as their eyes trailed him. He knew they'd be berating Glenn for that later. He'd heard them do it before. How they treated him like a child for being too friendly with Daryl. And that's what he wanted. He wanted them to think he and Glenn weren't nothing to each other. That Glenn was stupid for trying. They wouldn't expect anything of him that way.

In the morning, though, his tent was near the camp. Set up so he could hang his kills between two trees without the line getting in anyone's way. No one said anything to him about it and he didn't say anything back.

=Now= 

Glenn collapsed back into the pillow before rolling over, his own sides already aching, "Okay. So round is a ring. That's not the point of this!"

"Well then get to the point, Korea," Daryl muttered, letting out a groan of pain. When Glenn looked his way, worried, he waved the concern off, "Keep talkin'. I'm fine. Jus' laughing too much."

"...okay," Glenn conceded. "So where was I?"

"You were having sex."

"Right. Sex. So we had sex and it was good. It was fun. She seemed to like it. Right up until we got back to the farm. Then she went all cold shoulder on me. I know she's interested in doing it again, but... I don't know what I'm doing wrong. She won't go for it. I tried talking to Dale after I talked to you, but he went on about Hershel. Like it was Hershel's business. I just... I don't know. I wanted to ask you because I figured out of all the people here, you'd probably have the most experience with girls."

Daryl frowned, "Why's that? Shane and Rick are the one who've been fucking someone the last couple weeks. Not me."

Glenn rolled his head to look at Daryl like it was obvious, "Because you're hot? And badass? And shit, do you know how many times I walked in on Amy and Andrea having arguments about your arms and ass with Jacqui? She hated that she found your white ass good enough to look at."

Daryl stared at him like he'd grown a second head. Sure, he'd been cat-called a few times by women. But most of those that did it were whores. Actual, professional ones. Not just random women Merle felt like insulting for not being interested in his dick.

Glenn's face had become inscrutable as Daryl started at him and after a few long seconds it was like a light bulb had gone off, "You don't get much action, do you?"

Daryl ducked his head and tugged the covers up.

"Hey, no!" Glenn had rolled back onto his stomach and was tugging the covers back down so Daryl couldn't hide behind them. "I'm not judging you. I don't get much, either. You don't have to-"

"Shut up! I ain't no pussy," Daryl muttered, putting his arm over his face since he couldn't get the covers there.

"I didn't say you were," Glenn said softly, his hands stilling. He paused, biting at his lips. Daryl could just barely see them, hovering somewhere to the left of his fingers where they curled into the white cloth. "I think it's great."

Daryl's arm lowered so he could shoot the man a glare.

"Not that you don't get any, just that we have something in common," his husband defended, meeting his eyes. Like the glare didn't matter. Like he felt no threat from it. He smiled and settled his head into his arms again and Daryl felt like he'd been stripped bare by it.

They laid there looking at each other for a good hour. Not talking. Just watching. Daryl felt like he should say something, but every time he tried to think of something, his mind blanked. Half-formed words died before they had a chance to croak their way out of his throat.

The spell of comfortable silence that had settled over them ended when someone tried to open the door and found it locked. A knock came after. Glenn was up and out of the bed, hurrying to it, before Daryl could say anything. He didn't turn over or try to look. And when he heard Maggie's voice whispering so she didn't disturb him, he just shut his eyes and willed himself to forget how nice it had felt to lay there next to Glenn. Next to his husband.


	9. Optimism is the Lack of Information

=Now=

“The ears are creepy,” Lori muttered, eyeing them as they hung from the line Daryl had strung up. Supposedly for his kills (and to be fair there were three squirrels hanging by the tails from it). But she didn't like them.

Rick shrugged, “We don't know why he had them. He might have been doing the same thing Glenn and I did in Atlanta. Covered as he was.”

Lori gave him a dirty look, mouth pressed into a line, “You're awfully fast to defend him."

“Someone has to,” Rick shot back, letting his frustration bleed into his tone. “All Shane does is tear him down. Dale. Andrea. You. And for what? Not being completely friendly?”

“For being a cruel and terrible man,” Lori answered. “You meet him a day after you tie his brother to a roof and then we have to hightail it out of the camp because of walkers. He's desperate right now for safety, just like we all are. But he's not a good man.”

Rick shook his head and pressed in close to his wife. He didn't want their conversation carrying and he knew she didn't either. “He is a good man-”

“You weren't there, Rick,” She interrupted, meeting his eyes. “For over a month, they were in camp. The two of them terrorized us whenever they had the chance. You didn't see what he did to Glenn.”

“What did he do to Glenn, then?” He asked, head tilting, jaw clenching. “Because all I've seen him do is everything he knows how to keep that kid alive and safe. Same as he's been doing for Sophia.”

Lori's eyes flared and she shook her head, “No. No he hasn't. He's been doing it now. Since you came. But before... he _beat_ him, Rick. He pushed him around in front of all of us. Knocked him down and kicked him. Wouldn't be surprised if he did more in private. He hurt Glenn and Glenn... Glenn is just so in love with him he can't see how bad it is. He's like _Carol_.”

Rick's mouth worked and he had to look away. That wasn't something he'd been told. The others had mentioned a fight over Glenn asking to kiss Daryl, but beating on him? That hadn't been said. Neither had the way Ed treated Carol. The camp had quietly and collectively ignored it to keep tensions at a minimum.

After a moment, Rick nodded, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

He looked back to Lori and nodded,”Okay. I'll talk to Glenn and I'll talk the others. I'm not going to say I believe you, but-” he put a hand up to stall any further argument. “but I'll look into it. Okay?”

Lori shut her eyes and took a deep breath, then nodded, “Okay.”

=Then=

Carol sucked in a deep breath and let it out with a loud sigh. A focused attempt to breathe without breaking down into tears. She'd gotten good at it over the years to keep people from looking at her too funny after Ed got at her. The last two days she'd had to fall back on that just to hold her emotions in check long enough to function for the day. She was in mourning.

She'd confessed as much to Daryl earlier when she found him trying to saddle a horse. Not even a day after he impaled himself on an arrow and he was up. Wanting to keep going. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her or her girl. The sheer dedication. But she couldn't let him push himself like that. When he was so injured.

He hadn't taken it well. Lord knows she wasn't taking it well. But it was five days now. Shane was right. And what a bitter pill that was to swallow. There was no reason to think they were looking for anyone living anymore. Not with walkers in the woods. Her daughter was gone. She had to accept that. And Daryl did, too.

She needed to move on. Daryl needed to move on. Carol wasn't sure if she could. She would try, though. But Daryl... she knew he had the strength to. She'd seen it already with how he kept going after his brother disappeared. He was probably dead, too, whether Daryl wanted to admit it or not.

Someone walked past her and she looked up to see Lori hurry off toward Glenn. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest and Carol expected she was worried about her period being late. Stress could do that to a woman. Make things fluctuate. But there were other possible reasons Lori's laundry had come in without blood stains lately.

At this point, it was a pretty open secret that Lori had been messing around with Shane. With her husband back, Carol didn't blame Lori for the worry. That kind of thing could tear a family apart. And if she was pregnant, they'd need to take precautions. The world wasn't kind enough for small children anymore. It wasn't kind enough for big children, either. It took Sophia.

Carol sucked in another deep breath and wiped at her eyes.

=Now=

Rick leaned over to look in the tent, “Can I come in?”

Daryl lowered the book Andrea had given him that morning and glanced Rick's way before shrugging, “Sure, I guess.”

“Thanks,” Rick smiled, though Daryl could see it didn't quiet reach his eyes. He shuffled himself in and sat down on the small stool they'd put there for Hershel. The man was nervous.

“Something happen?” Daryl asked, hoping it wasn't about Sophia. Not with the way Rick was looking. Carol might have given up on her little girl because of Shane, but Daryl hadn't. And he'd been thinking Rick hadn't either.

Rick bit his bottom lip, then rubbed at it, before looking up to meet Daryl's eyes, “No. Just wanted to talk about something we probably should have talked about before.”

Daryl's eyebrows rose and he shrugged before he looked back to his book, “Out with it then. I ain't got all day.”

Rick snorted. They both knew that wasn't true. His smile was short lived, though, and he was nodding again, “Okay. I'll get right to the point, then.”

“Well, do it. You're sure taking your sweet time telling me what you'll be doing and not doing it. Did it with Merle, too.”

“That's fair,” Rick agreed. Daryl figured it was probably part of his cop training. Telling people what he was going to do, then doing it, so they didn't freak out about it. Even Shane tried to do it sometimes. Rick was better, though, didn't want let things get to the point of escalation the way Shane did. One of things Daryl respected about him.

“Want to talk to you about you and Glenn,” Rick said after another long moment. “Heard some things. Want to make sure there won't be a problem.”

Daryl rolled his eyes and looked out the tent window, “Was it T-Dog? Know he's been keeping his eye on me-”

“No,” Rick shook his head, “Wasn't T-Dog. Well, not this last time. Seems most of the group has their concerns.”

Daryl tried not to show how much that hurt and quietly asked, “Even Carol and Glenn?”

“No.” He could feel Rick's eyes boring into him as he answered. He didn't like letting his guard down and it was stupid of him to have asked... but he was glad it wasn't them that said things.

“Carol's concerned for you,” Rick continued. “And Glenn... not sure he'd talk bad about you even if he wanted to.”

“He would,” Daryl said too quickly, glancing back at Rick for a second before pretending to bury his attention back in his book.

Rick nodded, “Okay. Well, it still doesn't change the fact that people are concerned about you two. About what you've supposedly done to him.”

Daryl frowned. He knew what it was about, now. Course people would talk about it. After how Glenn had been with him, and how he'd been with Glenn, of course it would come up.

“Bunch of hypocrites,” Daryl muttered. In the next moment he had his book down and was pointing out the window, “You think they really care about him? About what happens to him? They put him down a fucking well with a fucking walker in it. They didn't even _ask_ him! Did they tell you that? Bet they didn't. Glenn was fucking volunteered for it and just went along with it. The way he always does. Because he cares about their fucking lives. And they can't even be assed to do the same unless it's convenient for them. This ain't about, Glenn.” He paused, letting that sink in before he settled back into his cot and pulled the stupid blanket up. Grabbed his book. “This is about them not liking me. They're jus' using him like they always do.”

=Then=

Something was up with Glenn. He was distracted. And not in the way of being smitten with the farmer's daughter. It was like his head was somewhere else and it was a struggle for him to bring himself back to the world around him. Lori didn't seem to notice while she was asking for whatever it was she was asking, since Glenn nodded at her and took the paper she offered. With what Glenn did for the group, it wasn't hard to guess Lori's intentions. Send him off on another run.

No one really appreciated that boy. Him and Daryl both. Even Carol hadn't really appreciated what the two of them did before she lost Sophia. Glenn, with his quick feet and eagerness to help. Always ready to head into Atlanta and risk his life for the comforts of their old world. Daryl, with his crossbow and quiet concern. Never really in camp long enough to get to know anyone because he was always so worried about how much food he brought in. Daryl, out there looking for Sophia when no one else was.

Daryl was a good man. He deserved to be treated like one. Glenn seemed to think so, too, if the continued crush he had for Daryl was any indication. Shame it was being distracted by that Maggie, girl. Daryl having someone giving him doe-eyes and leaning into him by the camp fire would do the man a world of good. But she couldn't exactly blame Glenn for taking what was offered.

Everyone could see that Maggie was just as interested in Glenn as he was in her. The girl tried to hide it, especially in front of her father. But it was pretty obvious to everyone. Like schoolchildren they were. Carol could picture it in her head already, how Glenn would slowly stop paying attention to Daryl and what little brightness Daryl had gotten from that would fade. And there wasn't anything that could really be done about it. Not without getting Maggie out of the picture.

And even if Maggie did get out of the picture, there was nothing saying Daryl would ever return Glenn's affections. He clearly didn't mind the attention as much as he used to. The first campfire at the farm had made that beyond obvious. He liked the friendship, if nothing else. But friendship didn't mean romance. And Daryl was already as skiddish as a wild horse about any kind of friendship.

It would be better for Carol to encourage Glenn to maintain his friendship. Maybe talk to Maggie about it, too. Get her in on the deal. Then Daryl would have two friends. Three, with Carol. Yes, that was much better plan than finding a way to pull Glenn and Maggie apart.

=Now=

The outburst surprised Rick. He knew Daryl cared about Glenn. At least enough to want to save his ass back in Atlanta. But he hadn't realized how deep that went with him. Again, it wasn't lining up with what people had been telling him about their relationship.

“Did you beat him?” Rick finally asked, watching Daryl carefully. He saw the man stiffen and relax like a well trained reflex. If he hadn't been looking for something, he might not have even seen it.

“If you mean, did I kick his twink ass,” Daryl said slowly as he turned a page in his book. “For asking me for a kiss... then yes, I did. But I didn't beat on him.”

Rick considered that, his eyes drifting from Daryl to the people he could see in the camp through the window, “Would you tell me what happened?”

Daryl side-eyed him. He looked surprised and Rick could understand that. No one seemed to ask Daryl anything. Just made assumptions about him. Except maybe Glenn. Maybe Carol, now.

The man shrugged, “Jus' did. He comes up to me and Merle one day. Starts yammerin' away, getting' on my nerves. Out comes this stupid bit about kissing me and- look, it was a joke. He was jokin' and I didn't get it.” Daryl sighed, keeping his eyes firmly on the book he was no longer reading. “I pushed out where people could see. I wasn't trying to hurt him. I just... I figured if I embarrassed him real good he'd let up, is all. So I pushed him down and kicked his ass. Just the once. No more'n that. Then I went off to hunt to let off some steam. Didn't catch nothin' and when I got back... Merle let me know how stupid I'd been.”

Rick listened, finding himself not surprised by that. With everything he'd seen of Daryl, it fit. He was volatile but it wasn't in a particularly physical way. He got up in someones face and tried to get them to back off before he ever threw a punch. He actively tried to avoid being touched. That didn't mean he wouldn't throw down if he felt he'd been pushed far enough, but Daryl didn't seek it out in the way Merle had. What he knew of Merle.

He nodded and stood, “Well, thank you for telling me. Try to get some more rest. We'll need you back to full by the end of the week.”

Daryl looked at him, obviously confused by that, “Why?”

“Hershel wants us to leave then, since Carl's up and about,” Rick admitted, sighing heavily. “You're our best tracker and only hunter. We'll need that.” Rick smiled down at him and this time his smile did reach his eyes. He waited until Daryl nodded that he understood before he left. His assessment hadn't changed in the slightest.

=Then=

Carol waited until most of the group had left for gun training in the morning. She had volunteered for laundry duty and Glenn had stuck around to learn more about the RV from Dale. It was the perfect opportunity. Only the four of them at or around camp, since Daryl was sulking in his tent with the book Andrea had taken him. Maggie got to Glenn first, though, talking about a pharmacy run for more antibiotics and painkillers. Glenn agreed, but he was still distracted. Carol could tell that even from a distance.

Once the girl had gone off to saddle the horses, Carol approached. She took Glenn by the elbow and led him off so they could speak in relative privacy. He followed without question for a little while. Just until he realized Carol was leading him down to the pond near the back of the property.

“Uh... where are we going?” He asked, looking back over his shoulder. Thankfully he didn't stop walking.

Carol let go of his arm, though, and crossed her own over her chest, “Just down here. I wanted to talk to you about something.” Glenn looked like he'd been caught red-handed with his hand in a cookie jar and Carol had to laugh. “Oh, don't worry. It's nothing bad. It's about Daryl.”

Glenn relaxed, eyes shutting and shoulders releasing their tension, “Oh. Okay. Sure. What is it?”

“I know you care about him,” she began and held a hand up to stall any would-be protests. “And I'm perfectly okay with that. I'm not going to ask you to back off or to try and forget him. He's a good man. He deserves to have someone to care about him. But I also know you and that Maggie girl have something going on.”

“Oh, man... did Dale say something?” Glenn groaned, hands going to his hat.

Carol shook her head and smiled, “No. You two just aren't as subtle as you think you are. And I think it's wonderful you've found someone. For however long it lasts, it's absolutely wonderful. Lord knows all of us deserve a little happiness right now.”

Glenn's hands dropped and he winced. His thoughts had gone immediately to Sophia. It was as plain on his face as the day was long.

=Now=

“Did you talk to Glenn?” Lori asked later, after Glenn and Maggie got back from their run. She took him by the arm and led him away like they were going for a romantic stroll.

Rick let her and when they were out of earshot, he shook his head, “Naw. I talked to Daryl, though.” At Lori's sharp intake of breath, he shrugged. “Part of getting all sides to a story is getting all sides to it. Was going to have to talk to him, anyway.”

He knew Lori didn't like that without having to look at her. One of things he'd fallen in love with her for was her was how firmly opinionated she was. It had been a blessing before things went down. And it still was, sort of. She was trying so hard to keep things together and like they used to be. Rick needed that, much as he fought her on things. He did need her perspective to keep him grounded as things got harder and harder.

“What did he say?” She asked, voice tight.

Rick shrugged again, “That it's not what you think-”

“Of course he did. Abusers always do,” she muttered, fuming at him. “And you believed him?”

“Yes,” Rick stopped in his tracks and looked at her. He met her eyes, imploring her to listen to him. “I do. He told me he kicked Glenn. But that's all he did, Lori. _One_ kick. In front of everyone.”

“And you really think he wasn't doing more?” Her eyes were hard. Angry. Scared. “Are you really going to trust him to be telling you the truth when he's in that camp with our son? _Our son,_ Rick.”

“I know,” he said, raising a hand as if it could calm her. “I _know_. But he said he did it to embarrass Glenn. Not to hurt him. Just to make him back off. You've seen how Glenn looks at him. It's the same with Maggie. He's gone and fallen in love with the guy and Daryl can't handle that.”

“Can't handle that?” Lori stared at him like he was nuts. “That man... that man over there... him and his brother... they verbally harassed and threatened everyone in the camp at the quarry. _Constantly_.”

“I know!” Rick protested. “I _know_ that. And I'm not trying to defend it, Lori. I'm just saying that there's more to it. That what you saw... it's not what's really going on. It's not what I've seen. Back in Atlanta, when we went for Merle and the guns? Daryl freaked out about Glenn getting grabbed. He was mad about it. And just a few days ago, when Glenn was in the well... He's mad about that, too. He _cares_ about that kid.”

“Then why is he always fighting with him? Calling him things not fit to say?” Lori threw her hands up, rounding on her husband. “You know Glenn's the only one he calls that shit? He doesn't like Glenn, Rick. Not really. He just doesn't want his punching bag taken away. If you can't see that then...”

“Then what, Lori?” Rick asked, hurt to the core by her words. It was like she didn't trust him, either.

“Then... I don't know, Rick.” She shook her head and walked off, “I don't know.”

=Then=

Carol sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly to keep herself from tearing up. Then barreled on, “Anyway, what I wanted to talk to you about- what I wanted to ask you was... Daryl's a good man. And I think your friendship is important to him. Even if he doesn't say it or he tries to deny he has any care at all for you. I know it's hard to keep trying when he's like that with you, but I want to ask you to keep it up. And if you could, maybe introduce Maggie to him? She seems like the kind of girl he might get along with. As a friend.”

“Oh,” Glenn stared at her dumbly for a long moment, brows scrunching. He glanced back at the camp and then to her and then he shrugged, “Okay.”

Carol's smile lit up her face as she pressed a hand to her chest, fighting back tears, “That must have sounded so melodramatic. I'm sorry.”

“Oh! Oh no! No no no no!” Glenn protested, waving both his hands in front of him in a futile attempt to stop her crying. “It was fine. I was just... my head was just... most everyone's been telling me to keep away from him, that's all. I was surprised.”

“I know,” Carol reached out to brush some stray hair from his forehead. “A week ago and I would have, too. Their eyes just haven't been opened. They're all trapped in their own little worlds, same as I was. We can't live like that anymore, though. And I'm glad you already see it. You saw it first. Back when the Dixons joined the camp. You kept going out of your way to include them. You're a good man, too, Glenn.”

She took his hand and squeezed it, then looked off to the side. Glenn followed her gaze and together they watched Maggie walk the saddled horses toward the RV and the camp near it. She let go of his hand and gave his shoulder a push. Whatever funk his mind had been in had seemed to break for a moment and he was smiling again.

“Two birds. One stone,” Carol laughed to herself and made her way back at a much slower pace.

=Now=

“Did you talk to Lori?” Glenn jogged up to meet him before he could make it back to camp. Lori had already stormed through. So it was pretty obvious he'd spoken to her. He really couldn't be surprised that Lori had told Glenn he was going to speak to him. She's probably even told him why.

“Yeah,” Rick sighed and stopped to lean against the fence. “Yeah, I did.”

Glenn searched his eyes, arms crossed and apprehensive, “And?”

“And it didn't go well,” Rick muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

“Oh,” Glenn cringed, glancing back again. “Sorry. I... I thought it would be better if she did and-”

“You wanted her to talk to me?” Rick quirked his head to the side, eyebrow raised. Had he really read the situation that wrong?

Glenn nodded slowly, “Well, yeah. I mean... It's not really my place to say what she should or shouldn't do, but I think it's a decision she shouldn't make on her own.”

Glenn looked up at him expectantly and all Rick could do was stare at him in confusion. He blinked a couple times, then held up a finger, “You're not talking about Daryl, are you?”

“No? What does he have to do with anything?” Glenn raised an eyebrow, now equally confused.

Rick waved his hand and shook his head, “I think my mind just wandered for a moment.”

“Right...” Glenn chewed at his bottom lip, then burst out, “But you did talk to Lori, right?”

Rick nodded before slowly shaking his head, “About what?”

Glenn stared at him, then clammed up, “I think I should go.”

“About what?” Rick asked more forcefully, hackles raised.

Glenn winced, stopped half-way through his turn and gave him the most defeated look Rick had ever seen, “About her being pregnant and asking me to get her morning after pills?”


	10. Bitter Pills and Poor Planning

=Here=

Glenn plodded back into camp after leaving Rick in the field, head down and hands shoved deep in his pockets. He ignored Dale calling for him and Carol's hello. He ignored Carl's attempt to get his attention and Shane's offended objection when he clipped the man's shoulder because he didn't move out of the way when the other man decided to walk in the opposite direction and cross his path. He usually moved for Shane when that happened, but he didn't really care about that at the moment. Not when he'd pretty much just ruined Rick's life.

He walked past everyone and straight to Daryl's tent. Daryl knew he was coming because the windows were down. Daryl liked being able to see his surroundings and keep watch. Glenn didn't bother asking to enter because he figured if Daryl actually objected he would have said something before Glenn's hand was on the tent flap.

Once inside he flopped onto the floor and laid down. It wasn't comfortable, but Glenn also didn't really care about that. He just needed to not be moving and not be visible to anyone. Not easily found. And even if everyone had seen him disappear into Daryl's tent, he knew everyone but Carol was going to avoid going near if they didn't have to. That sort of protection, the kind he got from Daryl being 'unapproachable', wouldn't last forever. Probably wouldn't last much longer than the week with Daryl's injury. But he could use it now.

Daryl had tracked him with his eyes on his approach. He'd watched Glenn like he would a deer, still and silent. Observing and taking in how nervous or relaxed he was. He'd taken stock of how the others in camp had reacted to Glenn, too. How they'd looked when Glenn ducked his head to enter his tent without stopping to ask. How they'd stared and then shared nervous glances. Glenn could imagine it all in his head. He knew Daryl that well. He knew the others in the camp that well.

He was way more observant than any of them gave him credit for. Sure, he didn't always see things that were going on, but that was more because he wasn't looking for stuff to know than because he couldn't figure out what was what. He'd picked up on Shane and Lori before the camp gossip mill had, thought not before Daryl and Merle. But they'd been looking for things to be aware of. Glenn just kept his observations to the things that would keep him alive. It also meant he didn't have to lie about what he knew.

=There=

_Let them turn._

The last words she'd said to him haunted him in a way he didn't like to think about. Set themselves up in his head and wouldn't leave. Made all the more frustrating by the way she just wouldn't talk anymore.

Funny thing was, though, once she had those two boys (and whoever they were he expected they deserved what she did to their corpses) leashed up like a couple of ugly dogs, she looked to him. She waited for him to do whatever he was doing. When he'd gotten up and started scavenging through the remains of the camp for supplies, she'd followed him. It did not sit easy with him and he couldn't really put a finger on why.

Merle didn't say that aloud though. He'd stared at her for a long while and then cracked a rude joke. She hadn't reacted. Didn't give him that look she had before. It was like she was broken and he hated to admit that it took all the fun out of calling her a nigger bitch to her face.

He hadn't stopped, of course. Least not right away. It took a few days before the words bled out of his vocabulary in regards to her and were replaced with attempts at getting her riled. Or getting any response at all. Something beyond dead eyes that followed him around like he was her only remaining link to humanity. No one should look at him like that. Especially not a woman.

But she wouldn't talk and she didn't seem to care about his words. She mostly followed him. Took out more walkers than she had the right to with that sword of hers. That was really the only times she was more animated.

Walkers would come into view and she'd hold the chains out for him to take with his good hand. She expected it of him. Didn't ask, just waited. And he'd taken them without thought that first time, surprised at her gesture. She'd gone off and protected him when she could have just walked right by them with her pets keeping her hidden from them somehow.

He complained the second time, of course. And the third. By the fifth day of passing through small herds, though, she'd gone and got him a set of his own pets and damn if he didn't have to fight back the thought that it was the sweetest thing anyone had done for him since the whole mess went down. Which was pretty fucked up in and of itself, but with the dead getting back up and walking around, it wasn't _that_ far out there.

=Here=

Glenn pressed his palms to his eyes and groaned low in his throat, letting some of his obvious frustration out. Daryl glanced his way for a second before sitting up and leaning over him to zip the tent shut. The windows were still down, but it wouldn't be easy for Glenn to just get up and leave if one of the others decided they needed him for something. He knew it wasn't any kind of real protection. It was more a gesture of solidarity.

And that seemed to get across to Glenn because the kid was smiling up at him with tired eyes, “Thanks.”

Daryl shrugged and got himself settled back into his bed so no one could look over and then run to Hershel and tell him he was being a bad patient. Last thing he needed was that old man coming over and nosing into his business.

“Hey,” Glenn's hand flopped over to rest against the cot's frame as he tried to get Daryl's attention. When he looked over, the kid was smirking, “Anyone asks? I'm not here.”

Daryl snorted and grinned before he could stop himself and settled for looking away. Back out the window. “Who you hiding from, short round?”

“Everyone,” he said with a 'mmm' and a stretch. “For the rest of the day, I don't want to be found.”

“Not even by the farmer's daughter?” Daryl was already tracking Maggie as she made her way from the house toward the camp.

Glenn hesitated for a second before sighing, “No. I kind of just need a break from everything.”

Lori made to intercept Maggie, but the girl shot her a look like the wrath of God was coming for her that made Lori stop where she was. “Something happen while you were out on that run?”

“Yeah.” That was all Glenn said and Daryl let it sit at that.

Dale had caught Maggie's attention and after a quick exchange, the old man had waved her toward Daryl's tent. Daryl's lip curled and he sat up to start closing his windows up so Maggie couldn't see inside before she got there.

“Scoot under the cot,” he muttered as he turned to start on another zipper.

Glenn scooted himself over, sending him a questioning look. Daryl was just glad he didn't say anything because almost as soon as he had the last window zipped, Maggie's voice filtered through the cloth.

“Glenn? Can I talk to you?”

=There=

When they were both tired, they didn't try to kill the walkers around them. They walked past and through them like they were ghosts. He fell as silent as she'd become so they didn't draw attention to themselves. He was at more of a disadvantage than she was, either way. It was safer and he wasn't stupid or high enough to compromise that safety. He didn't much like it, but it was what it was.

The day had gone and gotten half-way over on them before he realized there weren't any more walkers near the road they were on. He didn't know if it would last, seeing as there was the shape of buildings just far enough away that he could see them but not make them out. But for a moment, it was just the two of them and the unnatural silence of nature going on with itself around them. So of course he had to break it.

“Mutie,” he declared. Didn't even get a glance from her. Merle raised an eyebrow as he looked her way. “No? Gotta be something with you being silent. Can't pronounce your name worth a damn.”

He could. Michonne wasn't difficult. Was actually kind of pretty, when he sat down and thought about it. She knew he could, too. That wasn't the point, though. Sadly, she once again _didn't_ rise to the bait. And he was running out of things he felt didn't cross the thin line he had about what was okay to say to a woman and what wasn't.

She held out her hand for him to take the chains and he did so, glancing at the road ahead of them. There weren't any walkers that he could see. But something had her hackles raised. He shut up and followed at slightly faster pace, giving the leashes a good yank to make sure their pets hurried the hell up.

When she moved across the road to the other side, he finally spotted what she had. There was building tucked away in the trees. Overgrown long before the world went to hell in a handbasket. She had already pulled her sword out and was looking like she intended to crash the door down when Merle whistled sharply.

Michonne whipped around to look at him and he jerked his head to the side. In the silence that came right after the sound of engine rumbling their way was incredibly loud. She backed away from the road on her side and knelt down to watch for the vehicle. Merle jogged off to hide in the trees on the other side with their pets in tow. He wouldn't have as good a view, but it would be better than being seen.

Neither of them were particularly keen on meeting anyone else just yet. As for why, Michonne had some obvious reasons. She wasn't really ready to feel alive again. Merle, though? He chose not to put much thought into it so he didn't have to face the fact he actually kind of liked walking the lonesome road with her. He wasn't ready to admit he'd started to care.

=Here=

“He's not here,” Daryl answered and waved for Glenn to scoot back out. He'd only needed him under there so he could get to the windows without stumbling over him.

“Dale said he was,” Maggie answered, clearly not buying it. Not with how fast Daryl had closed the windows.

Daryl got himself comfortable on the cot again and picked up his book, “Old man's wrong.”

There was a short silence before he could hear the girl let out a sigh and kick at the dirt near the door, “Okay. Could you pass him a message when you see him, then?”

“I ain't a secretary,” he sneered, letting his voice get real mean and doing his best to sound like Merle would. “Tell him your own damn self.”

“Fine.” Maggie kicked the tent outright at that. Just enough to shake it. “Glenn, when you're ready to ta talk, I'll be inside. I'm helping out with dinner and... I want to talk. About today. And what I said about... Mom. And Shawn. And... I think... I talked to daddy about what happened. That I think you're right. That maybe we should. Look, Glenn, I know you're in there. Please. Talk to me.”

She went quiet and Daryl knew Glenn wasn't going to just let her walk away. He didn't have hear the sliding of blue jeans on vinyl, or the sound of the zipper catching, to know that. If someone was willing to talk things out with the kid, he'd let them. Try his best to find a resolution.

Glenn opened the flap and then sat to the side so Maggie could come in. Daryl frowned at him, but didn't protest. His hand went to the nearest window zipper and tugged it open enough for him to see out. As expected, the camp in general was watching them instead of minding their own fucking business.

“Assholes,” he muttered, then turned to glare at the two lovebirds, “Keep yer damn voices down or everyone out there'll hear you. And I don't need them hoverin' anymore than they already are.”

Glenn smiled at him in thanks and Maggie ducked her head in apology. The two idiots might not have much sense in them, but they did have enough to know that he was doing them a big ass favor.

=There=

The engine belonged to a truck that drove past their hiding spots and into the strip of buildings ahead of them. It stopped there and a guy jumped out of the back, an obvious rifle raised up while both doors opened. Three men but only three men. They did a quick sweep for walkers while Merle and Michonne slowly made their way closer using the cover of the trees and the distance to their advantage.

They weren't able to make it to the men before they were done with their run. The three were just loud enough to be heard bitching about finding nothing as they climbed back in and drove off. They didn't turn back around and there was only a few hours of daylight left. Merle caught Michonne's eyes as they rejoined each other on the road and he held out the leashes for her to take her own.

He started off toward the buildings, “Well, they didn't sound like they found anything. But they also didn't turn around. So I'm thinking they were on their way back somewhere. Not enough gear in the truck for travelers like ourselves. And too much gas for wasting on a quick stop.”

She didn't respond. He didn't expect her too. But she did tilt her head. Almost as if she agreed with the assessment. Merle took it as such.

“We can probably set up camp inside for the night,” he drawled out. “Maybe have an actual fire.”

Michonne's expression eased a little. Not much. Just a slight lessening of the frown lines around her eyes.

“Well, if you're that excited about getting warm, I know a lot better things we can do than just light a fire,” Merle smirked and licked his lips. “Body. Heat.”

He wasn't certain, but he thought she just might have rolled her eyes at him for that. It was hard to tell when looking at her in profile. He couldn't keep the triumphant grin off his face though. After a good week of silence and dead eyes, he'd finally gotten a reaction.

=Here=

Daryl could see Maggie looking between him and Glenn, giving Glenn a questioning look. Glenn shook his head just slightly and then shrugged. Maggie's eyebrows shot up in a quick 'what does that mean' way and Glenn sighed. He turned to Daryl, “I need you to keep a secret.”

Maggie hissed and grabbed Glenn's arm and Glenn stared her down, meeting her angry gaze with a pointed one of his own.

Daryl wasn't sure if he should roll his eyes and leave them or tell them to get a fucking room. That wasn't his. It was Glenn's expression that had him nodding even as he looked away. Like Glenn was about to trust him with the same kind of secret as their marriage was meant to be.

Glenn took a deep breath, two, and reached out to squeeze Maggie's hand, “Hershel is keeping walkers in the barn.”

Maggie squeezed her eyes shut as she leaned forward to rest her forehead against Glenn's shoulder, squeezing his hand just as tightly. Glenn met Daryl's eyes before Daryl could see red, held him in place the same way he had with the burial and the burning. It didn't stop the anger and fear, but it made it hard for Daryl to talk back against it. He couldn't hold that gaze and looked away.

“When'd you find out?” he asked, voice softer and holding more fear than he'd ever admit to.

“Last night,” Glenn answered. His own voice was steady. “Maggie and I... I thought it would be fun to go out there and wrote her a note. She didn't have time to stop me before I got there.”

Daryl nodded slowly, peaking out of the window again to make sure no one was nearby, “What happened today?”

“I got attacked,” Maggie's voice came out in a near whisper. Ragged and scared, unsure. Like her world had gotten turned upside down and she was hanging from the floor that was now a ceiling by the barest of carpet threads. “At the pharmacy. Glenn saved me. I knew they were dangerous but... Daddy's so sure they're just sick. That they can be helped.”

Daryl lifted an eyebrow and finally looked at her. Glenn hadn't stopped looking at him. He met Glenn's eyes as he asked, “What about that changed your mind?”

Maggie's shoulders started shaking. She shook her head and tried to bury herself deeper into Glenn's shoulder. “He nearly sliced it's head off. But it just got back up. It got back up. It didn't stop until he'd-” Both her arms wrapped tightly around Glenn's neck. His husband wrapped his arms around her back and tried to sooth her, but his eyes didn't leave Daryl's. He needed Daryl's support in whatever happened next. Just as he'd needed Daryl to protect him from prying eyes and worried stares.

Even with a woman he clearly loved in his arms, Glenn needed Daryl.


	11. The Chickens Have Escaped

=Now=

“You ready?” Rick asked as Glenn walked away from the house with a bit of dazed look.

He shook his head, “No. Need to talk to Daryl real quick.”

“I'll be here,” Rick nodded as he pulled the car door open and jumped in. He had a perfect view of the sour look Maggie had on her face as she watched Glenn. He couldn't tell if it was concern for the kid or if she was pissed off at him. But she kept watch on him until he got into the car. Then she hurried off, back inside the farmhouse. Didn't look back once the engine started.

Glenn was quiet for the first part of the trip. The town was only a mile up on horseback, but by car, with the way the roads were laid out, it would be a good twenty minute drive. So while they didn't really have a lot of time to talk, they did have _some_ time. And with how Glenn was sitting and how Maggie had been, Rick figured he might as well broach the subject.

Only he didn't exactly get the chance because Glenn was Glenn and he had a hard time holding anything inside, “Maggie said she loves me.” Rick didn't say anything in response, though he knew Glenn was looking at him, hoping he would. But this was something Glenn needed to get out on his own, not have it coaxed out. The kid smiled nerviously, frantically, “She doesn't mean it. I mean. She can't. I mean why- S-she's upset. Confused. She probably feels-”

“I think she's smart enough to know what she's feelin',” Rick cut him off before he got more worked up.

Glenn shook his head though, “Nah. No. Nooooo. No. I- You know she... she _wants_ to be in love. So she... she needs something to... to like... hold on-”

“Glenn,” Rick cut in again. “It's pretty obvious to everyone Maggie loves you. And not just because you're one of the last men standing. So don't go dismissing her feelings because you're the one having trouble figuring out what you want.”

Glenn shifted so one knee was up against the window and he could put his elbow on it while his fist pressed to his lips. He started shaking his head, “I'm not having trouble figuring-”

“You're in love with Daryl,” Rick said bluntly and was met with a stunned silence for zero point eight seconds.

Glenn's eyes blew wide and his jaw dropped and then he was practically, shouting, “NO! No no no no no no no! I'm not in love with Daryl. I'm not! I-I can't be. Not possible.”

Rick raised an eyebrow and shot him an amused smile, “Uh huh.”

“I-... Look, it's... it's not what you think,” Glenn sunk into his seat like a sulking child and Rick didn't bother to try holding his laughter back.

After a scathing glare, Rick reigned himself in and nodded, “Okay. Okay... if you aren't in love with Daryl, then what's the problem with Maggie saying she loves you?”

Glenn chewed on his lip before sighing, “I didn't say it back.”

He looked expectantly at Rick and Rick shrugged, not seeing the problem there.

“I've never had a woman say that to me before,” Glenn practically begged Rick to understand where he was coming from. “You know, except, my mom and my-my sisters. But with Maggie it's different. I mean wha- we _barely_ know each other. Wh-what does she really know about me? Nothing. We're practically strangers. Strangers who've talked off and on for like, five days. And had sex once. I-I didn't know what to do with it. I just stood there.” He sighed and looked down at his lap. “Like a jerk.”

Rick shook his head, “Don't worry about it so much. She's not going anywhere and neither are we. Not for a while yet, anyway. Assuming we can get Hershel back and talk him into letting us stay.”

Glenn snorted, “Yeah. I guess....”

=Then=

“SHUT UP!” Glenn's voice broke through the shouting, surprising pretty much everyone. The barn door creaked under the strain of walkers, their groans mixing with the heavy breaths that filled the tense air. Glenn stood in front of Shane, giving him that same hard-eyed look he'd once given Daryl for daring to put the bodies of their people in the fire. He gulped hard but he didn't look away. “He wasn't methed out. He's never been methed out. That was Merle. Not Daryl.”

“Oh like that matt-” Shane started to dismiss it and got cut off as Glenn put both his hands on the man's chest and pushed him back.

“IT DOES MATTER!” he shouted. Another deep breath. His eyes never wavering as he stared the other man down. “It does. Daryl. Isn't. Merle. _Daryl_ nearly killed himself looking for Sophia when he found that doll. He wasn't methed out. He was injured and barely able to walk and he fought his way back to the farm to get that doll to us. To make sure someone saw it and could keep looking. He's done more to find Sophia than anyone else here. He's _nothing_ like Merle.”

Shane curled his lip, shook his head. But it wasn't Shane that spoke into the hard silence that followed.

“Leave him be, Glenn,” Daryl snorted as he lightly shoulder-checked the younger man from behind. Let everyone see him letting Glenn stop him from going after the ex-cop. Let everyone see him support the kid in his own way. “Man's not worth the effort.”

Glenn didn't back down, though. Not right away. He waited until Daryl had gone off a few yards before he followed, his glare leveled at Shane as the man finally started to look like he felt some guilt and remorse for his words. Heat of the moment didn't excuse them, though. Not for Glenn.

=Now=

They settled into comfortable silence that lasted right up until Rick was turning them onto the road into town. Glenn was alternating between chewing on his fingers and tapping them on the glass of his window when his thoughts sort of exploded out of his mouth again, “Does everyone think I'm in love with Daryl?”

“Yeah,” Rick smirked and parked the car, cutting the engine. But he didn't make to leave the vehicle right away, figuring it would be better to finish the conversation before they tried to get Hershel. “You give him the same kind of looks you and Maggie give each other. Kinda hard not to think it.”

“Do you... do you think Maggie and Daryl... That they...?” He hesitated to finish, but Rick nodded.

“Yeah. Pretty sure Maggie thinks that,” Rick answered quietly, thinking back to the way Maggie had been staring at Glenn before they left. “Not so sure about Daryl, though. I know he cares about you, but I think he'd like to pretend it's just an awkward friendship. He doesn't seem comfortable with the idea of another guy being into him.”

There came another silence and Rick let it sit for a few moments before reaching out to open the door.

“Daryl's my husband.”

Rick pulled his hand back and turned to look at Glenn after blinking a couple times, “Come again?”

“Daryl's my husband.” Glenn repeated, head down. “But we aren't, you know, together. We're just- we were in Atlanta before things went- and- and I was there for my friend's bachelor party. I got really drunk. I mean, _really_ drunk. Waaaaaay more drunk that I got at the CDC. I don't even _remember_ the night, that's how drunk I was. But... but in the morning I woke up in bed. With Daryl.” Glenn's hands came up as if to defend himself, “We were fully dressed! We didn't do anything! Except... get... get married.”

“That uh....” Rick's own mouth had a hard time closing on any words and within short order he found he was laughing. Because with everything that had happened in the last few months, getting shot, his coma, waking up to the world overrun with walkers... that kind of stupid bullshit drunken escapade was fucking hilarious.

Glenn was not as amused and sat there glowering while Rick got himself under control, “Yeah... Merle did the same thing when he met me.”

Rick's laughter doubled in strength at that. Merle knew. Merle. He _knew._ MERLE. The racist asshole had probably pitched a fit over it. He couldn't think of a better joke to pull on a man like him.

“It's not that funny,” the kid muttered and Rick just had to disagree. He supposed it wasn't funny from Glenn's point of view, but from where he sat, well...

=Then=

Maggie was waiting for them at Daryl's tent. She'd watched from the porch as Glenn stood up that morning and told the whole camp about the walkers. She'd sent angry glare after angry glare at him, but he didn't back down from the choice he'd made. She wasn't sure if she hated or loved that about him. His conviction. When he made a decision, really made it and was past the point of internal debate, he stuck with it.

At first she'd thought she loved it. That bravery in him. To do what he felt he needed to, be it dropping his ass down a well or telling Daryl about the walkers when she couldn't figure how to feel. It was as great as it was bad. Oh, who was she kidding? She loved it about him.

She loved him.

It was why she'd come out to wait for them to get back after the whole camp had marched their way down to the barn to check it out. She was mad at him, but she loved him and she wanted to make sure he was alright. That he hadn't gone and done anything stupid down there. What kind of stupid, she wasn't sure at the moment.

Daryl led the way with Glenn on his heels. She knew Daryl had spotted her before Glenn, could see it in his eyes. That and the way Glenn kept looking back at the barn, only glancing forward long enough to spot Daryl and make sure he was heading the same direction.

When they got to the camp, she rolled her shoulders and tilted her head toward Daryl's tent. Asking silently if they'd be willing to go in and talk. Daryl answered with a quick shrug. Glenn looked to Daryl for approval and another shrug was given. That wasn't surprising.

She'd figured out on their first day that Daryl was Glenn's best friend. The others seemed blind to it for some reason, but she'd seen it in the glances Glenn tossed the man's way. The quiet way Daryl would look back and then go about his business. If she hadn't, Glenn spending an hour sitting with Daryl after the man got himself cut up on his own arrow would have made it obvious. Glenn was the only one Daryl let stay with him for more than a few minutes. And also the only that had tried.

When they got into the tent, she settled herself against Glenn's shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist. Glenn chewed at his bottom lip and Daryl got himself comfortable on his cot while he took up look-out duties again. Glenn started to say something, but Maggie wasn't really in the mood to talk.

“Shut up,” she muttered, pressing a finger to his mouth. “Just let me have the quiet while I still can.”

Glenn didn't argue.

=Now=

“Okay. I get it. Ha ha. Laugh at the Korean that got married to the homophobic redneck while drunk. So funny!” Glenn exploded, kicking the dash just to lash out at something. Rick sobered up at that, feeling ashamed for his outburst but having a difficult time not finding it funny.

“Sorry... sorry... that' just...” He cleared his throat, “hard to imagine.”

“Yeah well...” Glenn huffed and sank back in his seat as he adjusted the rifle he'd brought. “Yeah... Look, I don't really know how I feel about Maggie. And I... I guess I don't really know how I feel about Daryl, either. Okay? But I can't... I can't love him. He's a good man. A good husband, even. But he doesn't want that and I can't... Even if I wanted to, and I'm not saying I do, I can't put that kind of pressure on him. But I mean... how can I tell Maggie I- how can return her...”

He shifted again, not comfortable with talking about this, but needing the advice. And of all the people in camp, other than Daryl, Rick was the only one that really treated him with any respect. Like Glenn wasn't some kid that needed protecting except when it was easier to throw him to the wolves as walker bait.

“Daryl's okay with us having sex,” he tried starting again. “He doesn't want to have sex with me. And I'm good with that, but...”

“But what?” If what Glenn had said was true, then there wasn't really a problem. The marriage wasn't exactly a real thing, right? Unless he was concerned about the way Daryl had been treating him, which, actually, Lori was more right about than she knew. “He threw you on the ground and kicked you. Being married and all, that's technically domestic abuse right there.”

Glenn shook his head in denial immediately, “No! No! That was... It wasn't really his fault!”

“You know what that sounds like, right?” Rick's opinion on Daryl hadn't actually changed, but the hard irony of Lori's concerns were not lost on him.

The kid winced, “Yeah... but it's true. He did it because of Merle.” Glenn sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, “If Merle had thought for _one second_ that I had any actual feelings like that for Daryl, he would have killed me. I think he would have been worse to Daryl.”

=Then=

The funeral should have happened months ago. It shouldn't have been attended by people who'd only been on the farm for a week or however long it had been. Daryl really shouldn't have been there, either. He had no business attending the memorials for people he'd never met. But everyone else was there and it seemed like the thing to do.

Carol stood to his left. She'd gone off to find some of those Cherokee Roses he'd brought her for Sophia and laid one each on the graves of Maggie's family. Of the bodies, those were the only three any of them really cared about burying: Annette, Shawn, and Arnold. He really hoped they wouldn't have to do the same for Sophia. No, he _believed_ they wouldn't have to. He had to believe because he knew Carol was starting to lose faith and it was obvious most of the others already had.

Maggie stood with her arm in Glenn's to Daryl's right. He was getting used to seeing the two of them together. Like they were joined at the hip. It was pretty obvious the kid had gone and fallen in love with the girl. Everyone already knew Maggie had fallen for Glenn so hard she'd hit the ground running.

He supposed the sight should have made him uncomfortable. What with Glenn being his husband and all. And if he was being honest with himself, something he was doing more and more often which was hard to get used to, he had been a little jealous when he first saw how much attention Maggie was getting. Right up until Glenn had told him about the walkers.

He'd had an epiphany in that moment: Glenn looked to him.

_Him._

Not Rick. Not Dale. Not T-Dog or Andrea. Not Lori. Not Maggie, that girl he'd been looking at since they got on the farm. Their approval, their opinions, were all secondary to Daryl's. He knew they were still imporant to Glenn, but they weren't the most important. Somehow Daryl had taken that spot.

It scared him. Being that important to someone. He'd never been that to anyone. Not to his dad. Not his mom. Not to Merle. And he wasn't exactly sure he could live up to that kind of expectation. But the odd twinges of jealousy when he looked at the two or thought about them, about Maggie, those had disappeared.

Glenn looked to him first.

=Now=

Rick licked his lips, nodded, and settled one hand on the wheel so his fingers could tap at it idly, “You really think so?”

“Yeah,” Glenn sighed again, heavier and sadder. “He thought Daryl was stupid for being so sentimental, but... well...” He shrugged, “So Merle put up with it for Daryl's sake. Because for Daryl, a stupid signiture on a paper... that was enough to make us family. And Daryl sticks by his family. You've seen how he is. How he didn't give up on Sophia. He did that with me, too.”

“You were lost in the woods?” Which would be news to Rick.

Glenn shook his head, “No. Um... during the first days, when things got really crazy and no one really knew what was going on... Right after Atlanta fell, he came looking for me. Him and Merle. All he had was my address. If they hadn't heard the group on the CB and found me there, the two would have gone into Atlanta. Merle told me Daryl was being a girl about it. Not when we met, but after. When Daryl was out was on one of the first hunts after they joined the camp. Merle liked to remind me that I'm not really family. That he was only doing it because of Daryl.” Glenn bit his lip and looked up at Rick, “I know it probably sounds hard to believe, especially with how he is about people being clingy and looking to him... but Daryl doesn't leave people behind if he doesn't have to. He's... God... I mean... If I had to pick someone to marry in this world, he'd actually pretty high on the list. And I think he's more than I think I deserve right now, even without throwing Maggie into the mix. And I... I don't know, Rick. I don't know how to handle this. ”

Rick took a deep breath and popped the door open, “Maybe you should take a little time to think about how you feel about him. And about how you feel about Maggie. Work it out from there.”

“Could I talk to you about it again? Later?” he asked, popping open his own door.

He nodded, “Yeah. Sure.”


	12. Definitely Karma

=Then=

Glenn wandered over to his husband, hands gripping the rifle a little too tightly. His eyes kept finding their way back, behind him, to where Maggie stood on the porch. He couldn't take long, but after what Maggie had just said, he felt like he needed to check in. Ground himself somehow.

“Hey.” The word was halfhearted at best and kept soft so no one could overhear.

Daryl grunted, glancing up at him briefly before going back to his crossbow. From the way he snapped his fingers to the side, Glenn figured the spring mechanism was messed up. Most of the parts didn't make him do that when he was inspecting it.

Glenn shifted the rifle in his hand so it hung down near his knees and kept his hands busy, “I'm going to go with Rick. Try to find Hershel. Bring him back.”

His husband nodded like he'd expected as much, eyes back on the bow.

“Could you do me a favor?” Glenn asked after a moment, gulping and shifting on his feet as his own eyes darted back to Maggie.

This time Daryl's eyes followed his. He squinted, first at Maggie and then at Glenn, “Something up with her?”

“Something,” Glenn sighed. He wanted to talk about it but they didn't really have time. Having a woman tell him flat out she loved him was just... And she'd barely known him a week, too. It was unreal. It was- He shook himself out of his thoughts and found Daryl looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Glenn shrugged, “I'll tell you after we get back. I just... could you keep her company? If she's up for it? Please?”

Daryl's brows knitted together and he did that thing where his mouth dropped open and his tongue stuck out along one side but didn't actually move to lick. Like he was almost biting it, but not quite, and couldn't figure out if he should be or not. Glenn's lips quirked with the idle thought that the man looked a little like a confused puppy. But Daryl saw that almost-smile and his tongue darted back inside as his mouth pressed into a line and his eyes narrowed.

Glenn did smile at that and the scowl was worth it. He shrugged again, “I'm worried about her. She hasn't really made any other friends in the group with how her dad's been about all of them keeping their distance. And I know she feels safe around you. Hershel falling off the wagon like this has her scared.”

Daryl gave him another look, this one a more distinct 'you owe me' as he snorted and muttered, “whatever,” and then went back to his 'bow.

“Thanks,” Glenn grinned as he jogged off, the expression fading as he got to the car. Maggie's eyes were still on him. Still worried. Still hurt.

=Now=

“Did you tell Shane?” Lori asked softly, her head against Rick's shoulder as they stood watching Daryl out in the field. He'd come back from his daily search for Sophia about an hour before, but he'd stopped at the edge of the forest and brought his bow up to start hunting. T was on watch, called down to Rick when Daryl looked like he was on the defensive. But after a good ten minutes of looking for a walker, they saw the man fire into the wheat. The only thing that came up was a small group of birds that scattered as Daryl darted forward to claim a prize. The group had relaxed after that, most of them excited about the possibility of eating something other than rabbit and squirrel without reducing the farm's already limited meat supply.

Lori had found Rick not much later and invited him for a walk that took them down the road a ways and gave them a better view of Daryl doing his thing. It was actually pretty fascinating to watch. The man was rarely ever still even when standing in place. But when he was focused like this, he could sit or stand without moving long enough to make even Rick nervous and feel like he should be doing something.

Rick let his cheek rest against his wife's head and shifted his arms so he could hold her a little closer, “No. I figured after the talk we had.... well, that's something you get to decide. It's not mine to make.”

He was still dealing with having to acknowledge that Lori and Shane had been together like that. Acknowledge that the child his wife was going to have might be Shane's. Even if only by blood. She'd still be Rick's, there wasn't any way he wouldn't love that baby as his own. But Shane could very easily have a hand in bringing her into the world.

Lori sighed and relaxed just a little more, nodding slightly. Not enough to disturb Rick or force him to move his head, though. “Good. I don't want him to know. Not yet. So many people already do it's a miracle he doesn't.”

“Why don't you want him to know?” He asked softly as another group of birds scattered skyward. He wasn't exactly eager to tell Shane himself, and he knew Lori had been trying to distance herself from his friend. But he didn't understand the sudden need she had to clam up about it. “Is it 'cause of the morning after pills?”

“No,” she shook her head and was quiet again for a time. She waited until Daryl was moving toward another patch of birds, where some of the previous ones had looked like they'd settled anew. “I think he killed Otis.”

Rick stilled, sucking in a breath. She remained where she was. They still looked like they were sharing a romantic moment.

“Dale does, too,” she continued softly. “And Shane he's... he's been acting different lately. He scares me, the way he talks. The way he looks at me. Like I'm _his_.”

He wrapped his arms a little tighter and kissed the top of her head, not sure what to say. Not sure what to do. Just that he needed to reassure Lori somehow that she was safe with him.

She pulled away though, turned to look at him, wrap her arms around his neck, “I need you to promise me you'll watch out for him.”

“Lori...”

She cut him off with a steely gaze, “No, Rick. I know he's your friend, but... I think he's dangerous to us. To our people. To me. And to _you_.”

“Has he threatened you?” he asked, looking into her eyes and praying the answer was no. He didn't want to think badly of Shane. He didn't want to have to watch out for his best friend. Even if things were strained between them. They were still brothers.

Lori shook her head and smoothed his hair back, “Not me. But he said something to Maggie the other day that has me worried about Daryl. And Dale's scared of him. Glenn avoids him like he didn't used to.”

Rick felt his brows raised, “You're worried about Daryl?” That was new.

“Yeah,” she nodded and laughed, a short bitter chuckle. “I am. I was wrong about him. He's good people, Rick. And I'm worried Shane might decide to do something about him, thinking that he's helping the rest of us. Shane watches him like Daryl's about to kill all of us in our sleep.”

He sighed, rested his forehead against hers, “What do you want me to do?”

“Just keep an eye on him,” she answered before kissing him. “Don't let your guard down around him. That's all.”

=Then=

Daryl settled himself in the chair Hershel had used when checking him over in that bedroom turned sickroom. It was tucked back in the corner opposite the hall entrance and next to the entrance off the parlor. Gave him a good view of things. Was even close enough to the window he could check outside every so often if he wanted to.

Maggie was in the other one, the 'visitors' chair, and pulled up close to the bed. Her hands held one of her sister's and she was talking softly, begging the girl to respond. But Beth wasn't listening. Or couldn't hear her. Eyes were wide open, but nothing and nobody was home. Patricia was pretty sure it was shock.

According to Lori, who had been told by Patricia, who had been told by Maggie, the girl collapsed in the middle of doing dishes. Just shut the hell down and ended up in a pile on the floor. He'd seen the plate, the remains of it, still in the kitchen when he'd rushed to follow the commotion that came after. There wasn't no saving it. Even superglue couldn't hold it back together. He quietly hoped the same wouldn't have to be said of Beth.

“They should be back by now,” Lori's soft words, worried and a bit too frantic, filtered in from the hall. Someone else answered, female it sounded like, but just far enough back from the door he couldn't make out the words. A third voice joined the first two and he was pretty sure that one had to be Andrea. So the second was probably Patricia. The three clucking about like hens that didn't know what to do with themselves.

The conversation came to an end when Lori leaned inside the room and glanced his way, then looked back out to say, “I'll ask him.”

Daryl scowled when she stepped around Maggie, one hand coming down to rub the woman on the back, and made her way over to him. He spoke before she could get a word out, “The answer's no.”

“You haven't even heard the question,” she protested, face hardening into a scowl of her own.

“I can guess it,” he answered, looking down at his hands as he crossed one leg over the other so he could start picking at the frayed edges of that pant leg.

She crossed her arms and cocked one hip out, that universal way women seemed to have in conveying how pissed off they were. Maybe it was a learned thing. It worked for one of them one time and they all adopted it and passed it on. It certainly had his hackles raised and he did his best to sink further into the chair, as if it would somehow help.

“It's been an hour. They should have been back by now,” she said, tone firm. All motherly and shit. He hated that tone. Hated it every time she took up with Carl. It was the kind of tone that created an instant ticket for a guilt trip for anyone that heard it.

“They're grown men, they can handle themselves,” he responded, voice softer than intended, but still gruff. Like he was being dressed down by his own Ma for breaking something he shouldn't have. 'Cept his Ma was dead and had been for over half his life. God damn he hated when women could make him feel like that.

She didn't reply, just kept looking at him. His scowl deepened and he turned his head to the side like that would make her break off her staring. It just made him more agitated and after a few seconds he snapped, “You tryin' ta say they can't?”

Maggie's head whipped up in his peripheral and Daryl flinched before he could catch himself. She didn't appreciate the raised voice, he could tell. But she was giving Lori the accusing look for what she was suggesting.

“Of course not, but-” she started and Daryl cut her off, standing up so fast she had to step back.

“But you are,” he growled, not really in her face, but in the tight quarters it probably felt that way. He took a deep breath, moved so she could retreat through either door if she wanted to, then spoke a little calmer. He was still mad, but it was more offended than anything. “You're worried about your husband. I get that. He ain't been back to you more'n two weeks 'n he's always off tryin' ta help other people with their problems. You got every right to be worried about him an' that this time you might not get lucky enough to have him come back to you.”

Daryl crossed his arms, fingers tucking into the armholes of his vest, and leaned back against the wall. He kept his eyes on his feet as he crossed them at the ankle. Andrea and Patricia were peeking in from the other door now. The eyes of four women were on him and the only reason he was even there was because Glenn had asked him to keep Maggie company.

“But even if you don't have faith in Rick,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “You should have faith in Glenn. He did how many runs inta Atlanta for us? All on his own? Hell, he saved Rick from being walker food the day your man rode into town. Kid knows what he's doing.”

Lori moved then, turned herself to face the window and hung her head. He heard a sniff and he knew she was fighting back tears even before her choked up voice filled the room, “I know but... they should have been back by now. What if something's happened?”

“What if it's just Hershel being a stubborn bastard,” he countered with, no bite at all to his tone. “Even if ya do need him here, there's no saying he's sober enough to do anything. If he really went out to get himself lit, he could be three sheets to the wind right now and fighting Rick and Glenn all the way. Man might be old, but he's strong.”

Daryl's eyes flicked up to look at Maggie and found she was looking at him. Sad eyes over a pained grimace as if she'd just laughed at his words and hated herself for finding it funny. He dropped his gaze straight away, feeling guilty for what he'd said.

But he looked back up again when he heard the woman sigh. She was staring at him still. Her head tilted to the side as her brows lifted and she choked out a soft, “Please?”

 _God dammit all_.

Had she picked that up from Glenn? Fuck him running if that wasn't enough to get him to push himself off the wall and start out the door. He made sure to curse as loudly and rudely as possible once he was out of the room. Stir up as much racket as possible while he made his way to his bike and peeled his way down the drive.

=Now=

“How's he doing?” T-Dog asked as Hershel left the shed. He was as nervous about the kid as everyone else was and hoped he'd be well enough to kick off their land soon.

Hershel shut the door and locked it like they had been since they moved Randall there. He waved his hand for T to follow and once they were sure to be out of earshot, he said, “He should be able to walk on it in a couple days. Rick said he's going to take him out ten or fifteen miles and leave him once he is. That still the plan?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, relieved that they didn't have much longer to wait. “I think he's planning to go with Shane.”

“He should take Glenn,” Hershel sighed. “Or Daryl. Both of them were there when we got him. I think they could handle him better than Shane.”

T laughed and at the look he got, he put his hands up, “Not disagreeing. But Shane's who Rick looks to for advice. He's Rick's old partner. They've been working together for years. And Shane was watching out for us after Atlanta. He's not so bad.”

“I don't like him,” Hershel answered, repeating what he'd said more times than was worth counting.

T didn't really want to get into it with him, so he changed the subject, “Hey, so... it's starting to get really cold at night. Rick was talking earlier about us moving into the barn now that it's cleaned out...”

The older man shook his head, “No. Not the barn. It'll still be too cold come winter.”

“There's not really any-”

“You all can move into the house,” he finished, cutting T off.

T-Dog stopped walking and looked at him, surprised. But also relieved. And then concerned, “Is there enough room? I mean, we still have the RV. Some of us can stay out there.”

Hershel shook his head, “It'll just waste power you don't need to waste. We don't have enough bedrooms to go around, but we have the living room and the parlor. Plenty of floor space and a couple couches. I expect Glenn will be sharing with Maggie. Jimmy already sneaks into Beth's room.”

The man frowned, giving T-Dog the stink eye, “They don't do nothin' and I don't want to encourage them to try. But if he's already giving up the bed space, someone else can use it.”

“I wasn't going to say anything,” T laughed and started to walk again.

“Well, it is what it is. We're gonna have to get used to living in close quarters,” he sighed. “I don't really want to ask my girls to give up their space, but if we need to, we might be able to make up something like a men's room and a women's room. For those who are unattached.”

T-Dog nodded, doing a mental tally and trying to figure out how dorms would be divided if they did that, “The only ones attached right now, officialy, are Rick and Lori. I don't think anyone would object to them getting a room alone with Carl if we did that. You got how many bedrooms again?”

“Six,” he answered. “The one on the first floor we been using for the injured and five more upstairs. We also have an attic. It's not insulated, but we can probably fix that easily enough. That subdivision your people searched for that little girl has plenty, I'm sure.”

“Our people,” T said, looking over at Hershel and smiling.

Hershel looked back at him and nodded, “Our people.” 

=Then= 

Carol was inside as soon as Daryl was on his bike and driving off. She rushed into the house, to the sickroom, and glared around at the four women gathered inside around Beth.

“What was that about?” she asked, breathing a little heavily from the run.

Shane wasn't that far behind her, nearly running into her as he used the door frame to stop his momentum, “Why did Daryl just run off like his ass was lit?”

The four women exchanged looks before they started to laugh. For Lori and Maggie, those laughs were inter-spaced with soft sobs they couldn't quite hold back. But for all of them it was a scene of relief, not worry.

Andrea got herself under control first, “Daryl's just going out to find Hershel. See what's taking Rick and Glenn so long.”

Carol pressed a hand to her chest and sighed, letting herself collapse on the empty chair in the corner, “Oh thank god.”

“That's all?” Shane asked incredulously, his eyes darting around.

The women continued to nod before Andrea smirked mischievously, “Wasn't gonna do it until Maggie batted her eyes at him and asked all sweetly.” She brought her hands up to her face, mocking, “'Please, Daryl? For me?'”

“I did not!” Maggie turned around and slapped Andrea on the hip, but she was smiling and laughing. Even with Beth right there, still out of it, still worrying them, the tension had eased some.

Andrea pushed lightly at her shoulder while Lori giggled. She wiped at her face to try and get rid of the tears and grinned over at Carol, “Think Daryl might be holding a candle for Maggie, too. Think Glenn's got some competition there.”

Carol's jaw dropped and she looked between Lori and Maggie as Shane made a face. As much as it offended her that Lori might have picked up on something about Daryl she hadn't, it was Shane's continued ill-treatment of Daryl that had priority. She gave him a scathing glare, “What? Something wrong if he does?”

“He ain't the kind of man any woman should have wanting them,” Shane met her look dead on before looking around at the gathered women and ending on Maggie. “If he really does like you, you'd do well to keep Glenn away from him or your boy'll end up dead.” Warning given, he left.

“Asshole,” Carol muttered into the silence the buzzkill had created. The chokes of laughter that followed helped, but Maggie was looking between her and Lori with concern. Carol sighed and shook her head, “Ignore him. Shane doesn't know what he's talking about. Daryl wouldn't hurt Glenn like that.”

“He did that one time,” Lori said softly, finding a seat on the edge of the bed, genuine worry in her tone.

Carol shook her head, though, “He didn't mean it. He was scared.”

“Scared?” Maggie asked, obviously confused for a second before comprehension took over, “Oh! Is this about when Daryl kicked Glenn over the kiss?”

The three from Atlanta looked to Maggie in surprise and she shrugged, “Glenn told me about it. Most of you people were acting like Daryl would skin him alive at any moment. It was weird. So I asked him about it.”

“So... you're not worried?” Lori asked her, searching her face.

Maggie shook her head, “Nah. 'Sides, Daryl ain't got eyes for me. Of the two of us, I'm the one that should be more worried about suddenly ending up dead. And I ain't.”

Carol tilted her head, not quite sure what Maggie was implying by that and not liking what came to mind, “He's not going to hurt you if you break Glenn's heart. He might avoid you for hurting his best friend if that happens, but Daryl wouldn't ever hurt a woman that way.”

Lori gave her a look like she was crazy for thinking that, but Maggie was shaking her head so Carol ignored Lori for the moment. Maggie took a deep breath and shifted her grip on Beth's hand, “No, he wouldn't hurt me that way.”

For some reason, Carol got the impression Maggie was saying there was something else there. But she wasn't volunteering what it could be. Carol decided she'd have to keep a closer eye on Daryl and Glenn to try and figure that out. If Maggie saw something she didn't, then she wasn't paying enough attention.

=Now=

“I don't like it,” Carol muttered, wiping down the sink and staring at Glenn out the window as he held Maggie's hand and practically rubbed the fact that he and Maggie were together in Daryl's face.

Dale raised an eyebrow and looked over her, surprised, “I thought you were in support of Glenn and Maggie?”

“I was,” she snorted while she finished her cleaning so she could lean against the counter. Her eyes never left the three. “Until I realized he's stringing them both along.”

“Daryl?” Dale asked and she shot him a dirty look. “What?”

“Not Daryl,” she said and nodded. “Glenn.”

Dale shuffled over to take a look and watch the three talking. Daryl was dressing down some quail he'd managed to shoot in the middle of one of the fields on his way back from his continued search for Sophia that morning. Carol had told him to stop, that at over a week it'd been too long. The man was stubborn. She appreciated it, but it also frustrated her. She just wanted to be able to mourn now.

It took a couple days after the men had gotten back from town with that Randall kid, but she'd finally figured out what Maggie had meant. Daryl wasn't interested in Maggie. He was interested in Glenn. And she was pretty sure Glenn and Maggie both knew it. The way Glenn was always hovering around Daryl, flirting with him as obviously as he flirted with Maggie. And Maggie just let it happen. Smug and secure in the fact that Daryl wouldn't go for it while she was around.

It made Carol sick to her stomach. To think, she'd actually hoped the three could be friends. But this wasn't friendship. This was just plain mean.

“Glenn?” Dale asked, squinting, and drew Carol's thoughts back to the then and there.

She nodded, “Daryl's finally returning his looks and instead of doing the right thing and giving up that girl, he goes and plays with both of them. Maggie's just as at fault for letting it happen, make no mistake, but Glenn's the one doing it.”

Dale tilted his head and gave her a look like she was crazy, “You really think Daryl's... it's _Daryl_.”

“And he's obviously been struggling with it,” Carol answered, giving Dale a pointed look. “You think he could just come out and tell people he's interested in men? With how Merle was?”

“But what about when he beat Glenn up,” he asked, shaking his head and trying to work this out.

Carol raised her eyebrows, “He didn't have to kiss him before he tossed him on the ground, Dale.”

=Then=

Daryl pulled into town in the middle of a gun fight. Walkers were everywhere and folks that weren't his people were shooting at ones who were. It was only luck that the geeks were clearing the others out and they didn't stay long enough to pay attention to a guy rolling in on a bike. He was witness to them pulling their asses out and leaving one of their own high and dry as he fired his gun into the back of the truck while they drove off.

“Glenn! Rick!” he shouted as he fired at the nearest walkers, taking out three of them in quick succession before he spotted them coming out of an alley.

“We're here!” Rick answered, cautious in his approach as he went to check out the one that was left. Hershel was with him, but Glenn wasn't in sight.

Daryl put his gun up and brought his crossbow up, taking guard, “Where's Glenn?”

“He's getting the car,” Hershel answered, attention on the screaming kid begging them not to leave him, “It's stuck. Went right through him.”

“Can we pull him off?” Rick asked, eyeing the walkers drawn by the screams on the other side of the fence.

Hershel shook his head and Daryl couldn't believe they were having this conversation as the man answered, “If we do he might not be able to walk again.”

“Hurry it up,” Daryl hissed, a bolt thudding to one of the walkers. “We got company.”

“Maybe we can cut it off,” Rick suggested. All of them ignored the kid's sobbed protests.

Hershel put that idea down, too. But there wasn't really a lot of time left. If they were going to save the kid's sorry ass, they had to do something.

Rick decided it for them as Glenn came around with the car, slamming to a stop in front of them. He grabbed the kid's leg and pushed it straight up. They were lucky the scream cut off on it's own as the idiot passed out from the pain. Rick lifted him into the back of the car and Hershel climbed in with him to try and stop the bleeding.

“Can you get back to your bike?” Rick asked as he went to get in the passenger seat and Daryl saw Glenn's head as the kid leaned forward, eyes wide at the sight of him.

Daryl grinned, then gave a nod, “Yeah. Get your asses on the road. I'll be right behind you.”

He expected them to do just that, but Glenn was in the driver's seat and he spun the car around like one of those guys in the racing movies. It wasn't something Daryl had ever seen up close and it was genuinely scary having it happen as he ran past and back towards his bike. The car followed him, plowed into a couple walkers, and generally kept what it could of the road clear for him. When he got to his bike, he peeled out of there and took point.

They arrived back at the farm after dark. Hershel and Rick got people moving with a few shouts and Daryl helped Glenn move the kid inside behind them. There was a lot of panic, general disarray, that Daryl got himself out of as soon as he could. He found his way to the porch, happy to find it deserted while everyone else was packed inside.

It didn't remain empty for long, though. Glenn and Maggie came outside, their presence announced by the banging of the screen door behind them as Maggie held Glenn in a tight embrace and pushed him up against the side of the house. They were kissing each other like their lives depended on it. Daryl supposed that with how things had gone down out there, they probably thought it did. They were lucky to come back to each other.

The sight made him a little uncomfortable. It was too personal. Something they should share with each other. He did his best not to draw attention to himself, but he had to move past them to get to the stairs. He didn't want to risk jumping the rail in the dark. He didn't know the house well enough to know where it was safe to.

A hand caught his arm as he hit the first step down. Daryl turned to see Glenn staring at him, eyes red. His other hand was still in Maggie's and she was holding it tightly. She smiled at him, relief and more in her eyes. Like Daryl was personally responsible for Glenn coming back to her. Daryl looked down, away, started to mutter about letting them have some time alone.

But Glenn had other ideas.

Daryl wasn't sure how long the kiss lasted, or how the man had managed to pull him into it and hold him there with just that one hand on his arm. He did know that Maggie kept looking at him with those same eyes. Still relieved to have Glenn back. Still holding onto his other hand. Not looking at all surprised or even hurt. Like she'd known it was going to happen.

Maybe that's why he didn't punch him. Or maybe he was just too much in shock from it that getting back to his tent was enough of feat to worry about.

=Now=

“I don't think he's doing anything wrong,” Andrea sighed, leaning back in the passenger seat of Shane's car as Shane glared out the window. He was watching Glenn again. It had become his hobby the last few days while the group waited for Randall to get well enough to drop somewhere far away from the farm.

Shane didn't even look at her but she could hear the disgust in his voice, “How can you say that? He's stringing them both along. Flaunting it and rubbing it in their faces. Playing 'em both. He doesn't even have the decency to be ashamed of himself. Shouldn't toy with people like that.”

“Or maybe,” she said, reaching over to push her hand in his crotch and give him a good rub. Draw his attention back to her. “He's just taking advantage of what he's being offered while it's still being offered.”

Shane gulped and she could feel him starting to get hard. The two weren't really together, but they'd been helping each other with the relief of tension off and on since the shootout at the subdivision. He licked his lips and looked at her, confused but aroused, “What?”

She smiled, raising an eyebrow and kept working on him, “I'm just saying... the world as it is now... we don't know who will die, when they will die.” Amy came to mind. Otis, too. Even Sophia, who was sure to be dead even if they'd never found her body.

“I don't think he's 'toying' with them. He's...” She licked her lips and started to idly undo Shane's belt buckle. “He's taking what he can while he can. They're both willing to let him right now. And I don't think if one of them tried to stop it, that he'd try to force anything. He's a good kid with a good heart, Shane. I don't blame him one bit for taking whatever joy he can where he can. Lord knows we do.”

Her hand in his pants made that point quite clearly as he let his legs open up as wide as they could so she could pull him out. He went quiet after that. Let her get him off with her hand. She couldn't exactly sit on his lap in in full view of everyone. Not when they both knew the horn would draw way too much attention. But she also knew that as soon as they headed off on another run, he'd be giving her a much needed return.

Twenty minutes later, after the two had done a little cleanup and Shane was relaxed, he set his hand on the ignition and gave it a turn, “You still want to leave?”

The question caught Andrea by surprise. She eyed his hand before looking at him to find his brows lifted and his mouth open. He was serious. He was ready to just get up and go. She tilted her head in thought and asked, “What happens if I say no?”

“You get out of this car and I go. You can tell them whatever you want.”

“And if I say yes?”

Shane smirked, “They'll eventually figure out we ain't coming back.”

Andrea eyed him up and down, then pulled her seat belt on.


	13. Morals Only Matter When You Have Enough To Eat

=Now=

“Man, am I glad you guys found me. The crazy fucks that left me here,” Randall shook his head as he dug into the can of beans. “They left me with food for a couple days, but only a knife to defend myself and only a couple bottles of water.”

“How crazy can they be? They left you alive, boy. There are worse folks out there,” Merle licked his lips and laughed at his own private joke. He was probably one of the worse folks there was. Michonne, too, if she cared to be.

“Oh no, they were crazy,” the kid insisted. He poked at the can again, scraping out every last bit of the food he could get. “See, I was with this other group and we went to check up on our guys, Tony and Dave. They were on this run, should have been easy. The town was cleared by our scouts. But they didn't come back for an hour after they were supposed to. We headed after them and on our way we heard gunshots. But there weren't any eaters, right? Town was still empty.”

Randall paused as Michonne moved, stood up and took a walk. He wasn't so stupid as to trust his 'saviors' completely. Merle made a noise to draw his attention back to him, “Town was empty?”

“Yeah. We check it out and find these fuckers, the ones that left me here, holed up in the bar,” he continued after a moment. “They talk about Tony and Dave being dead and try to convince us to not kill them in return.”

Merle laughed at that, leaning back against the wall, “That is damn crazy.”

“I know!” Randall shook his head and joined him in the laughter for a few moments before setting his empty can to the side and sobering up. “But then we're exchanging fire and the noise, it's bringing the eaters around. So we go to get out of there and me, I'm up on a roof playing watcher, right? So they bring the trunk around for me and I jump down.”

His hand went to his leg, grabbing it just above the wound, “Only I don't land in the truck. I land on this garbage bin and my leg lands on this fencing post. One of the ones with arrows at the top. And my crew, they ain't got no time, so they leave me.”

“Not much of a crew,” Merle mused, thoughts going darker than he'd expected. “Sounds like one I used to run with.”

But Randall was shaking is head again, denying anything was wrong with that whole affair. “Honestly, I can't blame them anymore for it. It was them or me with that many eaters coming in. I didn't think that at the time, but I've had time to think about it since, you know?”

He didn't continue until he got a slow nod of agreement from Merle, “Yeah. Suppose I do.”

=Then=

Maggie took a shuddering breath and hugged herself a little tighter. Her eyes scanned over the farm, her vantage point on the porch a decent one. She could just see her father near the watering hole with Patricia and Jimmy, clearing it of debris and checking the water level. T-Dog and Dale were walking along the drive and she expected they were on their way back from a patrol of the fence line. There was someone in the barn loft and she thought it might be Carl. Carol and Lori were in the house with Beth.

She took another deep breath before she put her hand over her eyes and squinted. Rick and Glenn wouldn't be back from dropping that stranger somewhere for an hour or so at best estimation. That just left Daryl for her to find. Taking note of the time, she figured if he wasn't back from riding out on Nelly for another patrol to look for that little girl of theirs, then he would be soon enough. Which meant she needed to head for the stables.

Maggie needed someone to talk to. With Glenn gone, that someone would have to be Daryl. She didn't feel comfortable enough calling her dad over to tell him Beth had tried to convince her to take a suicide pact. That her sister, his youngest girl, had kept one of the knives from the previous night's dinner in bed with her so they could slit their wrists together. Lori and Carol had agreed to sit with her, to talk to her when she clammed up for Maggie. But that left Maggie alone to deal with something she wasn't ready to deal with.

She made her way to the stable, fighting off tears. When she got close she heard the shuffling of feet and felt a wave of relief that he was there. She'd never actually tried to talk to him without Glenn around, but she had confidence he'd be there for her since Glenn couldn't be just yet. He was just putting Nelly back in her stall after rubbing her down as she came around the corner.

She didn't try to hide her presence so Daryl saw her pretty much immediately. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow and she waved her hand, “Go ahead and finish up. We can talk after.”

His eyes became wary, expression cautious, but he nodded his head and went on with what he was doing. He always seemed to be like that. Like he was never sure if he was welcome or not. Or like he expected to be told to clear out at any second. Abandoned, maybe. Left alone.

When he was done, she smiled at him, wiping at her face again as she approached. He looked her over more closely, brows scrunching, “Something happen?”

Maggie couldn't bring herself to answer right away. Couldn't bring herself to say the words aloud. She felt the tears building up inside her and instead of speaking, she reached out to curl one hand into his shirt and pull herself against him. He tried to back off at first, arms floating out at his side and one foot going behind him. But she had a good grip on his shirt and he couldn't pull away easily.

He started to protest, voice twisting into an ugly sound, but it only made things worse. She couldn't hold her tears back any longer and heaved a loud, croaking sob. She felt Daryl go stiff at that, though it was a distant realization. Still, she did let go of him and tried to apologize, her words choking up in her throat as she hugged herself tighter.

Daryl's arms wrapping loosely around her, awkward and as unsure as he himself often was, came as a surprise. Welcome, though. Both of Maggie's hands curled into his shirt and she pressed her face into his shoulder. He wasn't Glenn. He didn't know how hold her so she felt safe. But he was there and it was enough.

=Now=

“So this other group, the crazy one,” kid reached for the bottle of water they'd let him have and took a long drink. Merle felt like he was taking as long as he could to tell his story. Like he hadn't had anyone to babble at in months, not weeks. “They grab me and are talking about cutting off my leg, cause it's stuck. Which is sick-”

He stopped as his eyes jumped to Merle's obvious stump. When they darted up to Merle's face, he was giving him a 'you must shitting me' look.

Randall gulped.

“Trust me, boy, losing a leg is better than staying stuck with walkers on the way,” he drawled out slowly, purposely rubbing his fingers over the still-white new skin that had grown in. Made the kid as uncomfortable as possible before he smiled all too sweetly, “But you didn't have to. Lucky you.”

Randall gulped again and nodded, getting back to his story slowly, “Uh.. yeah.. yeah... so uh...”

“They wanted to cut your leg off,” Merle led the way with an inviting tone.

“Yeah,” he said. Took a deep breath and kept his eyes busy staring at the water bottle spinning in his fingers. “They didn't have time, though. They uh, the leader, he grabbed my leg and pulled it off the fence. I'm pretty sure I passed out from that, but it could have been the blood loss on the drive back to Maggie's farm.”

“Maggie?” Merle cocked his head to the side. That was a girl's name.

“Yeah. Girl from my school. Maggie Greene. I recognized her after they got me there. She didn't know me. I was invisible to most of the girls.” Merle didn't feel at all sympathetic about the dour look the kid made. “But I knew where she lived. Sort of. Her name and that's easy enough to look up in a phone book. It's why they didn't leave me the first time they were planning to. I begged their leader, fucker named Rick, to let me stay after he and this other guy tried leaving me at some old parks and rec place that was maybe twenty miles out from Maggie's place?”

Merle straightened up, brows raising. No longer interested in the girl. “A fucker named Rick?”

Randall nodded, “Yeah. Crazy dude. Had an even crazier son.”

Merle snorted, but hid his disappointment with a quick drink of his own water. Officer Friendly had been walking around alone. Fuck Rick being a common name. Couldn't the asshole have something more memorable like asslicker? Michonne gave him a look from where she'd gone to check the window. She knew who Rick was to him. He'd told her all about what happened, how he lost his hand. Mostly in long rambles to kill the time as they walked. He curled his lip for a second before returning his attention to Randall and she went back to checking the street.

Randall was ignorant of their quiet exchange, nodding more, “Fucked up kid, he is. After Rick decided he couldn't leave me there, he had this other fucker beat the shit out of me. I told them about the group I'd been with. They didn't like what they heard and I mean... everyone's done shit they don't like since this went down, you know? Even they were doing crazy shit. They were fixing to execute me. Blow to the head while my head was covered.”

He grew more agitated, leg shaking. He wasn't able to keep it still even when he reached out to try and do so by hand. It was not an easy experience to forget, “They got me somewhere and that kid, that fucking kid, he came in with his creepy voice and probably that creepy stare and he told his dad to 'do it'. To 'kill him'. Kid couldn't be more'n ten or eleven and he was fucking goading his dad to kill me. Crazy fuckers, all of 'em.”

=Then=

Daryl held her for a good half hour of hiccups and tears. His arms slowly getting heavier around her shoulders. Slowly getting used to holding her. Slowly getting used to _her_. He didn't even try to let go when she finally stopped her sobbing. Just let her stand there leaning against him, using his presence to steady herself.

“Beth wants to kill herself,” Maggie spoke quietly into the silence. “She wants me to do it with her. To go out together.”

She had the satisfaction of his arms tightening around her the way Glenn's would have. Had he learned that from Glenn? Had Glenn held him like that before, too? Sometime when they were alone in the night and no one could see them in Glenn's tent back at that quarry camp he'd told her about?

“I told her it was crazy,” she said, fingers loosening their hold on his shirt. She didn't dare move them, to slip them around his neck or his waist. If he'd pulled away at first over her just trying to get some simple comfort, he'd probably do worse for that. Even if he might be comfortable with Glenn doing it, even if he'd learned to hold someone from Glenn, she was still new to him.

“She alive?” he asked, voice loud in her ears. Gruff, but gentle. The kind of softness she'd heard him give to Carol when he wasn't fuming about the woman giving up on finding her daughter.

Maggie nodded against his chest, pulling away just a little to look up at him and offer a grateful, if sad, smile, “Yeah. Lori and Carol are with her. When I refused and got the knife back from her, she just went quiet on me. Started glaring like I'd betrayed her.”

“You didn't betray her,” he murmured, arms dropping to give her space but doing nothing otherwise to try and back up.

Maggie nodded, giving a quick, bitter chuckle, “I know. It just hurts.”

She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. They were just about the same height, both a couple inches taller than Glenn. They could look each other in the eyes easily enough. She took another breath, let it out with a sigh, then leaned in to gave him a quick peck on his cheek. He jerked away as if on reflex, eyes sliding to the side.

“Sorry,” Maggie apologized, gulping hard before she stepped back. “I just... I wanted to thank you for letting me...”

“'S'okay,” he said with a small shrug, eyes still down and to the side. “Jus' wasn't expecting it was all.”

She stared at him for a long moment before nodding, “May I give you a kiss in thanks?”

Daryl's eyes lifted for a brief second. He was surprised she was asking and that surprised her. Had no one ever asked him for permission before? She knew she'd made some assumptions about what was okay, but that was based on how he reacted to Glenn. Though, she mentally amended, it didn't make it right.

When his eyes dropped, he gave another shrug, “Guess so.”

Maggie stepped forward again, slowly pressing one hand against his chest to steady herself. She once more leaned in, taking her time because he pulled away again, like it was more reflex than something he could control. When her lips met his cheek, she held them there for a count of three. Not too long, not too short. Then she backed off once more.

“Thank you, Daryl. For letting me cry on your shoulder.”

=Now=

“Still, he didn't kill you,” Merle said, trying make himself out to sound like a voice of reason. Calm the kid down without telling him to calm down. The story was actually getting a little interesting. The people left in the world, he knew they'd all eventually snap and go nuts on each other.

“Yeah. I know. It's messed up,” Randall agreed. “They took me out the next day and brought me up here. Just a couple miles from where you found me. Left me with the food, water, and a knife. The fucker with the crossbow was the worst. He kept arguing that they kill me. I think they only didn't cause of the Asian dude.”

Merle's eyebrows shot up again, “An asian dude and a fucker with a crossbow?”

“Yeah. He kept pointing that thing at my head, saying how easy a shot it would be. Like, bam, right-”

“-through the eye. Quick, clean, no pain.” Merle grinned as Randall went completely still, staring at him like he'd just realized he was talking to the devil himself. Merle shrugged, keeping himself as casual as could be. “Doesn't blunt the tip, neither. So, this fucker with the crossbow. He got a name? What about the Asian kid?”

Randall was obviously nervous, gulping hard and eyes darting between Merle and Michonne, “uh... Daryl. I think the guy with the bow was Daryl. I don't remember the Asian guy's name.”

He didn't need to. Merle chuckled. So Offiicer Friendly had a crazy ass kid and, from the sounds of it, assuming Randall was telling the truth and right about things, Rick was walking that line between being a good man and a very bad man. And his brother was, of course, pushing him toward being bad. Merle nodded, “That's fine. That's fine.”

Michonne returned to his side, tilting her head as she looked down at him. He clicked his tongue and looked back up at her, nodding his head before he chewed on his thumb for a second. Then he smiled his sweetest smile and looked at the kid, “Well, Randall, what say we pay those crazy fuckers a visit? You know where they are, right?”

“What? No!” The protest was instant, the kid waving his hands in front of him and shaking his head wildly, “I don't want to go back there! They're nuts!”

=Then=

Daryl was near the woodpile, sorting through the sticks and branches, when Glenn found him. Dale had come back from the trek out there not long before and with how dour he was looking, Glenn figured the conversation hadn't been a good one. With Dale on the proverbial warpath about the plans to kill Randall, he had a good idea of what the topic of conversation had been.

“Hey,” he said, keeping his hands in his pockets as he approached.

Daryl looked up, looked around to see if he was alone, and gave a small smile as he went back to his work, “Hey.”

“Dale talk to you?” Glenn asked, sitting down on one of the logs Daryl had set up to the side.

“Yeah,” he answered, sounding annoyed. “He been talkin' to everyone?”

“Yeah. Well, he hasn't talked to me yet,” Glenn said, turning his head to look back at the house. “I expect he will before the day's over.”

Daryl grunted and moved to join Glenn, sitting on a second log as he pulled out his knife to start stripping the wood off the branches he'd selected. He was quiet for a little while, and Glenn let the silence sit. He mostly just wanted the peace that came from spending time with Daryl.

But Daryl seemed to be in the mood to talk because eventually he offered, “He was worried about me questioning the kid. Carol was, too. When I came back with bloody knuckles this morning. They both think I shouldn't have let Rick talk me into it.”

“Do you agree?” Glenn asked carefully. He hadn't much liked the idea of beating answers out of the kid, either, but he'd also been far more afraid of what could happen if they didn't. Particularly for Maggie. That fear for her overrided any objection he may have had. He wasn't sure what that said about him. If he should be worried about it.

Daryl shrugged, “I've done worse. 'Sides, the asshole deserved to get the shit kicked out of him.”

“Do you think it's wrong that I don't care if he lives?” Glenn asked quietly, voice unsteady. “That I think the danger to Maggie is too great to risk letting him go?”

“If it were you holding the trigger, would you be able to pull it?” Daryl countered.

Glenn looked up at him, surprised by the question. Daryl met his eyes and held him in a way he wasn't often able to do. It was Glenn that looked away, gulping hard.

Daryl set the branch he was working on down and stabbed his knife into the log he was sitting on. It let him have his hands free and Glenn could see him rubbing at the scrapes on his knuckles. Then he leaned back and stretched a bit. He didn't try to get Glenn to look at him again as he spoke, tone thoughtful, “I ain't gonna judge you if you don't think you could pull the trigger but still want him dead. Killin' shouldn't be something that's easy to stomach. It's just something that might have to happen. And if you can't do it, you need to know that about yourself. So you don't put yourself in a position where you're forced to make that choice.”

“And if I am?” Glenn murmured, throat closing up a little.

“You do what you feel you have to, however it goes down,” Daryl answered. “That's your choice to make. No one else's.”

Glenn lifted his head and met Daryl's eyes, “If I couldn't do it and I asked you to, would you?”

“Yeah. I would.”

=Now=

“Aw, come on. You got us now,” Merle goaded. He reached out and patted Michonne on the thigh, letting his fingers linger a little too long to be comfortable for anyone watching. He knew he was damn lucky she was letting him use her as a prop for intimidating the kid. Lucky he didn't lose his other hand. But he'd probably get an earful later. Metaphorically speaking, since she still wasn't talking. “Me an' my mute darlin' here, we'll keep you safe.”

Randall took a deep breath, still shaking his head, “Dude, I'd rather go back to my old group than back with those assholes.”

“I ain't asking you to go back with them,” Merle conjoled, leaning forward, still smiling, still trying to play it nice with just an edge of danger. The kind of look that made people nervous, made them slip up. Made cowards fold. “Just show us where they are.”

Randall bit at his lip, eyes going between him and Michonne. Merle followed his gaze, where it seemed to hover on sword and what the kid would read as a dead expression on her face. Merle knew better, of course, but it got the kid to sweat and that was the point.

“Don't worry, she won't bite 'less I tell her to,” he coo'd. Then he gave a slow, one-shoulder shrug, as if he had to amend that statement. “But I ain't never been able to control that itchy finger she has about that sword of hers. Can't guarantee you won't lose your leg after all.”

“Why?” Randall asked, eyes wide, not understanding but scared all the same. Just as he should be.

Merle lazily pulled his gun out and leveled it at the kid, grinning a pleasant little grin, like he was waving a friendly hello to his neighbor, “Cause that crazy fucker with the crossbow? That's my brother. And I'm fixin' on getting back to him soon's I can. You show us where this farm is, or you die and we figure it out eventually anyway. Can't be that many farms a couple hours slow drive from here. And I'm sure we can find a phone book to look up that girl you knew. What did you say her name was again? Maggie Green? Like the color?”


	14. If Wishes Were Horses We'd All Be Walker Bait

=Now=

“Go on now, Baby Girl,” he urged through a cigarette filled mouth. “Jus' like ol' Merle showed you. Go on. You got this or you die. Either way, you ain't gonna be a burden on us no more.” He sounded a lot more dispassionate than he actually was. He had to. Only way to make sure she was self-sufficient. Same as he'd done for Daryl when he was growing up. Their daddy certainly hadn't taken the time to do more than expect the younger Dixon to understand how to 'be a man' like it was some kind of instinct he'd just have.

Baby Girl gripped the knife tightly and started to walk forward, whole body shaking with nerves. She'd taken down walkers before plenty of times. Just not by herself. Beside him, Michonne shifted her stance so one hand was on her katana and the other was holding the chains for her pets out to him.

He glanced her up and down before looking at the girl, “What? You don't think she can do it? Baby Girl's a fast learner. She jus' needs a push. 'Sides, it's safe enough, stuck like that.”

Despite his words, he still lifted his stump so his mute darlin' could slip the ends of her leashes over the hook he'd rigged up on the make-shift metal cover that now allowed him to have a few different tools at the ready. Once the chains were secured next to his own ropes, Michonne headed off into the brush, circling around the side so she didn't enter the walker's line of sight behind their girl.

Little more than a month later, she was a far cry from the scared child they'd found in the town just about a mile up from the farm Randall had shown them.

The farm had been overrun with walkers and Merle felt no remorse for having lost Randall there. The idiot had done it to himself, running in the way he did, getting too far from Michonne and her pets when Merle had gone off with his to check one side of the yard while his mute darlin' was checking the other. Kid had been too cocky about the camouflage. Didn't realize it only worked for all three of them if they weren't moving fast. Wasn't like they needed him after that, anyway. Kid had served his purpose.

But their Baby Girl, now... that was different. She'd been smart enough to hole up in a shop and scavenge supplies from the other buildings nearby. Walkers came near her, she ran and hid. Weren't her fault she ran from one and ran straight into the pets. And Michonne's sword.

That had spooked his mute darlin' good. Enough that her mostly wary, hard eyes had blown wide and he'd heard her breath hitch in her throat as she caught herself just in time. And of course any frail soul would have screamed the way their girl did at the sight of Michonne like that. All wild-eyed and sword half-way to killin' 'em.

Merle's hand around her mouth was all that had shut her up as he grabbed her from behind and dragged her into hiding. Shushing her while that angel of death went all slice 'n dice on the walkers that came running. She'd gone still after a few moments, staring up at him while he watched out the door until Michonne was done doing her thing.

From the looks of her then and the little exploring they'd done upon making the area safe enough, Baby Girl had been on her own for a while. A few weeks at least. Maybe longer. She wouldn't say. She wouldn't say anything, really. She'd taken after Michonne that way. Hadn't said a word since that scream when they found her. Not even to tell them her name. Baby Girl seemed to work for her just fine. Even Merle had to admit he probably talked enough for all three of them anyway.

And now, here she was, staring down a walker trapped in the mud as it reached out for her. Didn't so much as flinch while she moved around it slowly. Studying it the way he'd shown her. Looking for the best place to grab it or cut it so she could bring it's head close enough to skewer. After circling it halfway, she backed off and Merle set the cigarette to his mouth so he could pull his revolver out and check it. His mute darlin' was rubbing off on him and he was just as ready to take out the walker from where he was so it couldn't hurt their Baby Girl if something went wrong. He mentally scoffed at himself, but didn't put the gun away.

She had flipped the knife in her grip so it would be better for stabbing down. She'd also gone and grabbed a thick, fallen branch with her other hand. Her left hand wasn't her strongest, but with the dead bastard stuck like he was, she wouldn't need much to take it down. She circled back around to it's front, just outside it's reach. Then she hefted the branch and swung it with all her might into it's knee. The walker collapsed, falling to the ground. It wouldn't be there long, of course. It didn't need to be.

Once it was down, she moved fast. Shuffled around to it's side and jumped on it's back. Her knees hit the leaves on either side of it and she grabbed it's neck with her free hand to hold it down. The knife slid home with little resistance. And then she was looking up, wild blond hair a halo around her grinning face as she sought out his eyes. His approval.

Her face fell, though, when she realized Michonne wasn't next to him. And he couldn't help the smirk that played on his lips when he recognized the look of anger that took over. She wanted to be trusted to protect them even if actually fighting like that scared her. He slipped his gun into his belt as their lady reappeared to his left, walking out of the trees and looking to him with a finger to her mouth. Then a nod to the side.

Baby Girl's anger melted to worry when Michonne turned her head to look her way and nod for her to get back. There were more walkers nearby. Enough that she didn't feel it safe for them to stick around and try to take them out. It probably wasn't a lie, but it also meant their girl wouldn't be left thinking Michonne hadn't trusted her to do right by what they'd been drilling into her head.

She wiped her knife on the back of the walker's shirt and hurried over to take the leashes of their pets from Merle's stump. That was the first thing they'd gotten through to her when it came to safety. The pets would protect her from the walkers, but she had to be willing to carry the leashes and take them so Merle could have the range of motion he needed to fight if it came down to it. She got that duty and would keep it until she could handle herself well enough on her own.

“Did good out there,” he said as he laid his arm over her shoulder so the stump hung down over her chest. She leaned into him like it weren't no thing and slipped her free hand over the end so she could hook her fingers through the hook on the side. Like she was holding his hand. “For a dumbass girl, anyway.”

When she elbowed him in the side, he just laughed. Both his girls had a lot of spunk to them. He liked that. He still needed to find his brother, of course. Evidence at the farm, and a few miles down the way at a highway pile-up, suggested a hasty, but well organized retreat from the massive herd that came through. And well, knowing his brother was probably just fine and with a group large enough to protect him if it came down to that had made the search lose it's urgency just a little. Only a little. Really.

It was just that Merle had a couple new priorities in his life and he wasn't feeling all that bad about putting them first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's been reading this.  
> I've decided to take what was originally going to be chapters 14-18 (which would cover the 7 months between seasons 2 and 3, as well as the start of season 3) and make them the beginning of a second fiction in this series.


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